Insanity Bleeds
by XxHDMxX
Summary: We are all humans, we strive to get what we want because we're selfish monkeys. Kenny always.. and never got what he want. Now that figments and insanity knocks at his door, we go through his life of heartaches, murder, and never happy endings. EPILOGUE!
1. DieAry Entry

Insanity Bleeds

Chapter One: Die-Ary Entry

HDM: note that listening to Orgy's new Punk-Statik-Paranoia inspired this fic but Especially the song Can't Take This. Green Day's album Shenanigans will be incorporated as well plus System of a Down's Toxicity album. I may have a song chapter to go along with the story but I haven't decided when or which song. (Yes music influence the shyt you see before you)

And about the story...

I have now gotten into South Park; reason I watched the New Year's marathon plus the movie giving me an idea or two. Although I like the pairings like StanxKyle or CartmanxKyle etc. but I don't know if any romance will ensue until later in the chapters. Yes, they're older and I did draw myself a sketch and I will post the drawings when I use my colour pencils (im too cheap for Photoshop XP)

Here's the Tainted Scripture you're damned reading...

_I can only hear 'blah blah blah' _

I think that I programmed my brain to not even hear the audible screeches coming from every being trying to communicate with me. It's so hard to distinguish the assholes from regular human beings. The assholes manifest this earth toilet; the regular humans come few and far between. Hell, they populate everything and destroy anything remotely good and nice. I cannot see any beauty, why bother? I mean it'll all be cast away to rot somewhere. I should know, I was cast away to rot every damn day of my childhood.

Dying, it's the binding thing that keeps most humans in line. Normal people follow the Rules of Life and Death while others stray from the rules. Most follow a ritual and stay clear from anything that could disrupt their reason to live. The clinically and non-clinically insane do not see the line defining life and death. The red line is a pink dot to them. They think they're invincible; an example would be an arrogant teenager. I cannot be even categorized in any slot. I do not follow the rules but then again the rules do not apply to me altogether. There's no reason to abide or 'rebel' against rules that don't justify things that aren't cared by any supreme deity after death. There's no purpose for me to even try to get myself to fit.

I, Kenny McCormick, have drifted away from being the typical kid who would die every day in the town of South Park. I have actually lived to be the rowdy age of fifteen. The dying ceased after awhile after age ten but I do not know why. I guess the higher deities picked another sap to torture with the curse of coming back again and again to this hellhole. South Park, the town where the only dirty word is hope. Any kind of phenomena, scandal, celebrity interaction, or other worldly disasters happened in the little town of hicks. That's really crude to think, although I would be labeled as 'white trash'.

My _friends _you could say haven't really grown away from their childhood personas. Eric is still the same; a fatass Hitler reincarnation who gets what he wants. He wears the same thing since he was eight but plus sizes. We found out that he became a bulimic a year ago; Stan walked in on Eric gagging in the can. Eric tried to make it not what it seems but we're not as stupid as he thinks. I could think that he hasn't changed but everyone changes some way. I think Eric, although quite insane, has the best grip about how harsh the world really is. He acts the way he does because maybe that's the way he thinks he can accept how things are. Then again, this is Eric we're talking about...

Well, Stan is something in itself. We all thought of Stan of being the one that would be the all A's, Quarterback, perfect girlfriend, all around happy kid. Stan got into different things that would be considered 'alternatively weird' in a sense. He reads Johnny the Homicidal Maniac while drinking some Vamp shyt. He dresses like Dracula and reads cult things. His personality didn't change, just his interests in things. Football didn't get thrown away but Stan wasn't socially adaptable to be star quarterback. It's a shame; a goth kid playing football isn't the best mix. Wendy worries I guess for his safety, I wouldn't blame her. I'm waiting for the first punch to be thrown.

Kyle Broflovski...what can I say about him. He looks, _amazing,_ to what everyone says about him. He grew out his red hair so now he has these bangs gracing over his green eyes. He has high cheekbones that shape his faces so nicely. He looks like what Bibles picture angels. God I sound like such a fag talking about Kyle like this but that's how I picture him. Kyle has this air to him that you know that he's something different, other than being one of the few practicing Jews of South Park. His attitude in general matured but he's still naive about most things. He isn't logical at all; he's very surreal when it comes to world matters. He has the smarts but questions everything to the point of it having nothing to do with the thing he questions. He's.... different

I can think of them like this because this is how I perceive them behind my orange hoodie. Really that's a metaphor because I don't have my face covered like when I had it at age eight. I do, however, keep all emotions locked away from them to ever question anything. Although it's helpful, I'm forgotten a lot. Christ, I can't tell you how many times where they forget even the most important things about me. I shrug it off, not really caring. That's my problem, I don't care anymore. I mean I'm just too apathetic to give a damn. I know that it's bad that I don't care when I should. I should care when they don't invite me to come down to Stark's Pond or when they go to the movies. I should care when they don't say "Happy Birthday, Kenny!" or "How are things?" when they don't. I should care that when I would die they would say the tiresome lines and forget about me. I just...lost interest on caring.

_It's killing me though... _

Smoking and drinking numbs my pain. Fucking numbs my pain. Any quick high numbs my pain. It keeps me secure and in control. I can forget about all of my problems for one night or a couple of hours. It's worth the repercussions like addiction and STDs. Anything is better than feeling all of the negativity I could feel if I didn't. Father despises my presence and Mother doesn't acknowledge my existence. I feel horrible about it but I don't act upon it. I get hit or I get yelled at. I once got a bottle of beer thrown at my back. It left a mark for a week or so. A whisk of brandy or a piece of ass can let me forget about my sorrows for a bit. The trouble is that I need more every time.

I have thought of ending my life so many times and then at the last second putting down the razor blade and going off to school. I ache to see if it'll hurt more if I kill myself rather than something else kills me. What would happen? Will I come back? Is it different if you do kill yourself? Is there a special place for lost souls? These questions run through as I hold the instrument with my cold fingers. It seems too easy; I wait for something to keep me from whisking the blade against my thin skin. I hear for the cliché phone call or doorbell. I ache for someone checking to see if I'm okay. I yearn to see someone to look upon me...to see the razor and to see my tear filled eyes. I long for the person to take me into their arms and to tell me it's okay

_No one saves me... _

I urge to break away from ones who want to hurt me. I want to be rid of things cutting against my cold and clammy skin. I want to eradicate any outside forces causing me sickness and dreadful diseases. I would kill to give them the Kiss of Death. It would make me giggle like a schoolgirl I think...

I sometimes think I hear something telling me these things. I think I am given horrible thoughts of to kill on purpose. I dream of murdering my parents. I awake in a sweat and a Swiss army knife in my hand. Confused, I put away the knife from mattress and lull myself back into dreamland, back into another dream with gore and violence. Maybe it's a premonition or something that is warning me of an outside force playing with my cards. I wonder if I should act upon my dreams or discard them as mere fantasy. I just don't know...

All I can say is that I will be happy when it happens. If some chance my parents are dead or something else extreme I will laugh. I will just laugh and laugh until I turn bright purple. I don't care how twisted it sounds but I will spit on their ashes and throw it all in a garbage dump. I will dance a dance folk will question my sanity and I will laugh for days. Mark this; I don't care of what people will say, I will laugh...

End of Chapter One

This was like a diary entry kind of chapter; the next and few after will be in a chronological sequence. Note Kenny's personality changes from suicide to homicide, very key elements that will factor into this story. I hope you liked what you read; I assure you it will get better and it will pick up.


	2. AstroProjection is in Demand

Chapter Two

Astro-projection is in Demand

HDM: no idea why the chapter is named that way oO;; ::ahem:: I looove the reviews and the compliments! : D Yes, I am a deep person when not hyper and crazed. Kenny will experience a lot of emotions and it'll be an interesting roller coaster ride to say the least.

* * *

I can hear the tractor-trailer outside my home; it signals me to get up for school. I arouse in a daze, almost forgetting where I am. There's an odor looming that smells like dog piss and old meat. I shuffle through my rags and find clean garments to throw on my bare body. I look at my bureau to find an old comb. I brush through my wavy blond hair quickly. I look at myself in the mirror. I can see a fifteen-year-old boy with long hair and pale blue eyes. I can see a mal nutrition runt who looks he could pass as a seventh grader. I can gaze at a boy whose eyes have dim; eyes that don't sparkle like the sea. I see...a mere shell of what I've become. 

I walk downstairs and see my mother at the kitchen table. She lies inert with her head lying on the table. Her red hair is matted and greasy; it falls over her dark eyes. I start up the old coffeemaker and watch the coffee slowly brew. The aroma must have awakened Mother because I can hear the creaking of the table. "Kenny..." she mumbles, "be a dear and turn off the T.V. for Mommy." I sigh and look at the T.V. to see it's not even on.

_Mother must be losing it..._

_Shut up; don't talk about Mother that way!_

_Ah, you're so funny...protecting Mother's name, as if she actually cares! HAH!_

_You're a fucking liar! Mother cares, I know she cares!_

I try to shake the recent 'argument' within and look at her. "Mother, the T.V. isn't on..." I reply quickly. I pour her some coffee and set it next to her. Suddenly, she cracks me right across the face. I stagger but I don't reply. I stand there with my eyes staring at the ground. "DON'T BACKTALK ME, MISTER! DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO?! HUH?!" she screams. I bite down on my lip and I suppress my tears. Why? Why isn't her touch gentle like other mothers? I'm fucking with myself; she really doesn't love me. Instead, she breaks down into tears and sobs. She tries to touch my now red cheek; I shudder at her touch. "Oh Kenny..." she sobs, "What have we become?"

_We?_

* * *

I walk out, not even caring about closing the door. I can still hear Mother sobbing for me to come back and turn on Jerry Springer. I feel so fucking retarded...why do I even bother to live in a fantasy? According to society I'm fucking white trash that doesn't have a nickel to my name. I have no use and I have no hope for a better life. My past is ugly, my present is in shambles, and my future is screwed over. Looking up into the sky, I can see only gray. "Heh, how ironic..." I mumble as I trudge on to the bus stop. 

Kyle's there, along with Stan and Eric. Eric is as usual arguing with Stan about being a "fucking Goth" and Stan's making the retaliation of "You're just an ignorant fat basterd". Kyle looks up and makes eye contact with me and waves. I give a small smile but it hurts to smile so much. Glad my hood is up or they might question something. "Hi Kenny! What's up, dude?" Kyle asks cheerfully. I just shrug; I can't possibly say what's really up because he won't understand. Eric just looks at me and grunts; Stan gives me a smile. "Hey Kenny, did you get the English assignment?" Stan asks. "Write a poem on any subject..." I reply monotonously.

"There's one thing though Stan, it can't be _satanic._"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Cartman?"

"You know, that's what you and your _Goth_ friends are!! _Satanic basterds!_"

"Go suck your mother's cock, Cartman."

"Bus!" Kyle yells to break up the fight. Stan and Eric just glance at each other and growls. Why do they even hang around each other if they just tear at each other's throat? I guess because they both know deep down we're the only things that we really have...not many people will be at our side for us. We all know that deep down, I think, but neither one of us will admit it. Because when we die...how many people do you think will even come let alone cry? Do you think...when I die, again, will they say the cliché 'Oh My God You Kill Kenny!'? Will you actually care, or are you incapable of actually caring?

* * *

School, what can you say about something that keeps you half your day to drill in facts and people and places? On the contrary, I do enjoy school. Most kids take it for granted; some actually go to a Catholic or Charter or Private school. Despite their complaints, their parents are _paying _for them to go, how lucky can you get? I'm only going to have high school, forget college. I'm smart but not smart enough for a full scholarship. I'm not..._worthy _for education. 

American Literature and Art II are my favorite subjects. Stan is in Art II with me, he's crafty with a brush but he says I'm the best. I cannot say; I'm quite modest when it comes to my artwork. I want to cry when someone says "That's really good, Kenny! You're really talented! Can I buy your work?" and other compliments. I even made 10 dollars on an artwork assignment that I kid bought off me. Poetry is my forte, though. Anyone can use paint but how about putting it in words? Or, put it in words where people actually want to listen to what you have to say. Stan, Eric, and Kyle are in my class and Kyle tells me how real my poems sound.

_I'm not worthy of such compliments...

* * *

_

When I came into the cafeteria, I found the normal table where the four of us gather. Stan and Kyle sat together and so I pulled up a seat next to Eric. He's scribbling down last night's homework quickly before next period while Stan and Kyle talk about some subject. I pull out an old candy bar from my pocket and nibble on it for what little nutrition it'll give me. Kyle eyes the candy bar and gives me a look. "Kenny, why don't you let me get you something to eat?" he asks. I eyes narrow in on the candy and then at him. Why does he think I deserve his charity? I mean, I can go steal a five off of someone easy and get food. How dare he be so...nice?

_You like the fact he's nice to you, you're just a prick on accepting kindness_

_I am not! I just don't want to accept charity, that's all..._

_Come on, dipshit! You know that no one ever gives you anything so it doesn't matter_

_SHUT UP! _

_Ha! You're so coy when you yell like that..._

I snap out of my enticement with myself and just shake my head. "Nah, I'm good Kyle...I'm running on adrenaline from last night..." I say for an excuse. I do remember though, it was in a restroom with a red head named Monica. It gives me a little satisfaction...and yet it makes me want to hurl. "Okay then..." I hear Kyle's reply soften. Eric looks at me and gives me a sneer. "Jesus McCormick, can your family get any poorer?" Stan and Kyle give Eric a nasty look. "Well Cartman you must have a lot of problems...it's the only reason you eat like a fat cow..." Kyle sneers. "Go suck your circumcised cock Jew!" Cartman spat. "Go back to your whore of a mother you mucus-munching porker!" Kyle sneered. "GUYS!" Stan yells, "Keep the insults to where I don't invision anything grotesque, I'm still eating!"

* * *

School's let out and hordes of teenagers rush out toward the outside world. It looks like a sheet of snow came down again today. I walk to the bus and got on without a word. I can see other kids looking at me with disgust. What the fuck did I do to them? Did I offend them for being poor? I want their looks to leave. Stan walks by and sits next to Wendy. Wendy gives me a look and then whispers something in Stan's ear. I turn my head and look out through the faded window...I don't care what the whore has to say to me. Kyle sits next to and touches my shoulder; I jumped at his touched. "Easy, Kenny! Dude, you're paler than usual...are you sure you're fine?" he inquires. I look at him; it's sickening to look at someone who is above and beyond your being. I hang my head and just shake it slowly. He doesn't look convinced but doesn't press the matter. 

I got off the bus and walked over to a Hooters nearby. I spot someone I didn't "acquaint myself with" and I have a dire need to find out if she shags well. From what I see this chick has strawberry blonde hair with reddish streaks and tons of eye makeup. When she bends down her thong shows and her tits fly all over. I instinctively stroll closer, as a lion prowls on the hunt. She eyes me and gives me a menu. I follow her to a small booth and she gives me a wink. A wave of lust fills my head and nether regions...I also need some cash as well. "So...what's your name?"

* * *

I fucked her stupid...but it doesn't give me the satisfaction that I wanted. I fucked someone who I just met...actually her name was Tiffany so I know a bit about her. It doesn't affect me, fornication, STDs, or even my conscious in general. I think that it's really asleep in my screwed up head. I got out of her 12.05...not too bad for someone who wasn't that good. Besides, this is all about survival...my father will not be pleased if I don't bring home more cash. I shudder at the thought of feeling my skin against a hot heater again. I unconsciously touch my shoulder; it would show a crescent scar looping around my bone. 

_You know, you could just...get rid of your problem_

_How so?_

_Eliminate your parental care...that way you'll be free_

_Murdering someone? I am more inclined to being the one killed than being the killer..._

_Don't be such a pansy! You know it'll satisfy your darkest desires..._

_No...I can't..._

_You will...._

Suddenly, I see two yellow eyes....

* * *

End of Chapter Two 

HDM: oooouu the plot thickens for poor Kenny! Next Chapter you'll meet _one _of the figments that plague Kenny's brain, the infamous Clyde. Catholic Schools are the shyt…lol (randomness!) Ciao!

R&R

Advise: geese hate any imitators


	3. Clyde and Deirdre

Chapter Three

Clyde and Deirdre

HDM: IT SNOWED AND I GOT OFF!!! ::does little jig:: WHEE! Um, yeah this is where Kenny goes cwazy! Kudos to my reviewers, they make me want to do a seal dance! ::does a seal jig::

* * *

It all was a blur, the next minute I thought I was talking, err rather arguing with...myself, and suddenly this purple fuzzy creature pops in front of me. He had these black horns, black fuzz on his stomach, a long reptilian tail, and pearly canines sticking out. What captured me were his cold and scary yellow eyes. "Wha- what are you?" I sputter. He let out this wicked laugh. "The thing you've been arguing with for the past couple of weeks..." he coldly replied, "I'm you, or rather, something from your brain!" I stared in disbelief; how the fuck did I make a furry little animal with the personality of the Joker and Danny Devito?

"Hey I'm no clown!" he spat. Did he just hear my thoughts? I must have something because this is what happened when you got too high. "I'm more than just an illusion from being in happy land either." he sneered, "I'm your enlightenment. I'm the one that will help you and I'll cease your undying pain, Kenny." he said with a smile. "What's your name?" I asked it. "Clyde, and don't say 'From Bonny and Clyde' because THAT'S SO FUCKING ANNOYING YOU HAVE KNOW IDEA HOW MANY TIMES PEOPLE HAVE ASKED ME!" he ranted. I backed away from the violent little furball.

"Ahem, anyways, I have been seeing your life in your eyes and it is pretty bleak and grim." he says, while getting back his composer, "I can make all of your troubles disappear." I am very tempted at the thought but I wouldn't trust this thing with a pet rabbit let alone my 'well being' This sounds oddly like some rapist would say to a little twelve year old whore. "Prove it..." I spat, "Prove your relief ness of my sorrows as you claim." Surprisingly he didn't go off the handle like before. He just gave me this little smile. The way his eyes glint, though, they're not friendly. His eyes...are malevolence painted gold. "Alright, Kenny, if you want to play prick, sure I'll prove my 'almightiness'."

* * *

Suddenly I'm in the room of what looks like a bedroom suite. In comes this porkish man with a woman with huge tits wrapped around his arm. He smokes his Cuban cigar and orders for a bottle of the finest champagne as the woman giggles with the hint of lust and possibly cash. Clyde appears on my shoulder and just watches the man. "That man was once this pauper who didn't have a penny to his name. He was raped my men including his own brother. He didn't have anywhere to go. Then, he got rid of his problems in a flash." he whispered venomously in my ear.

"You, you gave this to him?" I sputtered out. "Yess, I gave it all to him! I opened his eyes to what the world has to offer...and what the world inhabitants are. I showed him a place where there's no suffering, where he has money and women and power! You know you want that feeling. You need it, Kenny, and I can tell in your eyes that you hunger for it." I look at the little imp; he is right, I do want the taste of freedom on my tongue. I want to embrace the luxuries others already enjoy. I want..._more._

"But, there is a catch in getting what you desire." Clyde spoke, breaking my fantasy. "There always is, what is it?" I ask. Clyde snaps his claws and brings me to my parents' bedroom. They're sound asleep; it looks like from having a little fun. I hear the door creak open. From the door stands..._me. _I look deranged and maniacal. Clyde floats above my shoulder just whispering something in my or rather his ear. (To not to confuse myself, I'll refer to me as him...or the other Kenny as him...oh never mind...) My father awakens, "What the fuck are you doing here, boy?" he mumbles. Mother opens her eyes and just ignores him. Out come his sleeves is a long knife. The light bounces off the weapon and glints his now deadly ice blue eyes.

"_KILL THEM BOTH!!!_" Clyde shrieks, "_REMEMBER THE TORMENT, REMEMBER THE BLOW BY BLOW THEY TOOK OUT OF YOU! SPILL THE ROTTEN FLUID OPERATING THEIR INFECTIOUS BODIES!! RID YOURSELF OF THEIR HARSH EXISTENCE!!! DO IT NOW!!" _He looks at the two of them, he has no compassion in those eyes anymore. "Wait Kenny, no!" one of them shrieks. "Don't speak" he replies, "It just prolongs your fate." And on that note, he sliced through their skin and bones. The blood spewed across the room, painting the bed sheets and the walls with a sparkling scarlet hue. All I can hear is this horrible laughter. It's not Clyde who's laughing; it's me...

* * *

We come back to what appears to be South Park. I look around; I'm back in the same spot where I first encountered Clyde. I can't see or hear the little furball, must be lining up for another "Psycho Propaganda Speech". I arrive at my house and my parents are surprisingly not home drunk or high. I plop on the couch and turn on the T.V. to see just the news at six. The room got steadily colder that I can see my breath. I look to see there's not a window open.

_Are you really going to listen to the furball?_

_What? Who- what are you?_

_I'm you, I heard your cries and I'm hear to make them better_

_You sound just like Clyde..._

_No no No, I don't intervene externally..._

Suddenly a cold woman's voice is heard in my ear, "I help internally..."

* * *

I awoken in a cold sweat, the thoughts of that voice sends chills throughout my whole body. My heart pounds against my frail chest as I gasp for air. All I can do is replay the scene through my head. Who was that voice and why did she say 'internally'? What does she do, I wonder, that involves my organs? All of these thoughts go away as my phone rings, breaking the silence. I pick up the phone, who the hell calls me that I know?

"Hello?" I ask," Hey Kenny, it's Kyle." My heart leapt up and it feels it got lodge in my throat. "Um, you there Kenny? I called because you seemed a bit skitzy today at school and I was wondering if you wanted to join us for a game of pool tonight?" Kyle explained. No one ever _invited _me somewhere before. I twirled the phone cord around my finger, thinking of what I should say to him. "Um, sure I'll come..." I said calmly, holding back my excitement of such a frivolous thing. "Great! I'll come by your house around seven thirty, okay?" he exclaimed. I merely said 'that's fine' and hung up the phone.

_So do you have a thing for him? hehe That's so cuute_

_What the fuck do you want with me, lady?_

_Nothing, I just want you to be happy_

_Uh-huh, you're like a saleswoman trying to sell me your product_

_Hmph! You didn't even here MY offer yet!_

_What do you want from me? Killing spree? Organ donor? What?_

Suddenly this pixie like thing popped out of the air. Her skin was light blue to go with her dark blue hair. She wears a black and torn gown and has small silver wings wrapped up in a white material. Her eyes were a hue of silver, they appear sad. She has a rim of freckles along her nose, making her look childish. She had a smile that made you want to run and cry. She floats here, giggling in front of me, what she's giggling about I haven't a clue. My eyes narrow in on my new visitor.

"My name is Deirdre and I'm pleased to be acquainted with you, Kenny." she stated with a blasé tone. I took a double take, first Clyde the homicidal furball and Deirdre the porn star of pixie land. God I need to get a life... "Um..." I started to say, "Why are you here?" She let out a laugh. "Why, to help you!" she says with glee, "Clyde has no brains on what is best for you." I look at her; she seems too sincere. "Uh huh, what do you think is best for me?"

* * *

Suddenly, we're whisked off to another strange place. It appears to be a white garden with oddly colored flowers. Women romp _naked_ across the fields and mockingbirds sing their hearts out into the sky. I feel like all my addictions for drugs, cigarettes, and beer suddenly evaporate from my body. This is too true, is this heaven is for the privilege? I stare at Deirdre, who's gazing at the sight as well. "Why did you bring me here?" I ask her, "Well, the afterlife is always a better view than the toilet rock you call home." she replied. This is true, the big picture is always much better.

I'm brought back to my living room. I can feel all of my addictions come back like a tractor-trailer pummeling into me. I'm killing for some Southern Comfort. Deirdre just looks at me, with the same smile. I want that place, no I _need it. _It looks so tempting to just grab and take hold in my fleshy hands. It's too much of a tease, I think, why can't I have it? "Do you like what you have just witness?" she asks me, reading my thoughts most likely. "Yess, I do like it very much. How do I achieve that utopia?" She smiled and whispered her answer in my ear. "Then take one too many aspirins and fall asleep...you'll wake up there in no time."

* * *

End of Chapter Three

HDM: guess what? Clyde means _heard from afar _and Deirdre means _sad one_! Isn't that uberly ironic? Okay, Um Review and tell me what you think! ::Pouts and gives puppy eyes:: I'll wuv you foervuh! (I do say forever like that when I'm pouting! ) Oh! fyi check out around Tuesday I'll post one of my drawings of sp ppl on my website (go under my name to get the homepage) and I'd like it you'd put it in the review that you'd check it out!

Advise: don't go out in a blizzard to get a popicle


	4. Revelation of Joy and Pain

Chapter Four

A Revelation of Joy and Pain

HDM: yeah...the south park fanart is up ...it's on two scenes, the last chapter and this one. I'll have more as time goes on

* * *

I'm so confused...

I would normally be freaking out by all of this; somehow I'm not too fazed. Except for the visions and shit, I find it like a battle between anger and sadness. Do I give in to anger and violently attack all those who hate me or do I give into sadness I get rid of my life forever? There are setbacks to their 'utopia' and I'm not that stupid to oversee them. Sadness, I could end up in Hell. Anger, I could end up in jail or even the electric chair THEN Hell. I mean, they could be lying to be as well. I can't trust some floating thingy like I would trust...actually, I don't trust anyone.

All of this thinking may have knocked me out because I was awoken by the sound of a knock. I rubbed my eyes and stared at my cracked door. _Kyle..._I remembered that we were going to the bar to shoot pool. I opened the door and he greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey dude, you ready to go?" he asked me. I looked down at myself, old ratty hoodie and hole-ridden jeans. This is the best I've looked all week. "Yeah, let's go..." I try to quickly usher him out of my house. "Wait, shouldn't we tell your mom you're going out?" he asked me. "She's...resting..."

The bar is only five or six blocks away from my house so it wasn't far of a walk. It was cold enough that we could see our breath. It was an awkward silence between the two of us; we rarely talk as it is so it wasn't unnatural. "So..." he started, "How are things, Kenny?" Well from having yourself getting beaten and whipped and now having two things in my head, what would you think? "I'm good..." I lied. "You _were_ skitzing out today..."he argued. I just shook my head. "I'm good...really..."

The bar wasn't crowded and neither was the pool hall. I could see Stan and Eric playing and of course Eric losing terribly. A good game for him is actually hitting in three of his balls. It looks like Wendy has joined Stan; she's watching them while drinking a Shirley Temple. "I'm going to go get a drink..." I tell Kyle. "Okay dude, hey can you go get me a Coke?" he asks while handing me five dollars. "Um, sure..." I responded. He gave me this smile, it wasn't a fake 'go away kid' smile but a genuine smile...I liked it...

* * *

Christ there are so many sluts here it's almost sickening. I mean, the shirts are so tight you can tell they're not wearing bras and the skirts can show their thongs. The fact I have been 'acquainted' with each and every one of them is even more grotesque. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do to make a buck. This girl, Tammy, comes and shows me a seat. I lay my head on the table, feeling my head getting dizzy with all of the cheap hooker perfume. I want to go and stick my head in a toilet and regurgitate all of my inners.

Suddenly my eyes caught sight of a red head I've never seen in my days of being here in this trash heap. The weirdest thing is that she's not wearing anything revealing or skanky! She wears a long sleeved shirt and a skirt way down to her ankles. She has really pretty eyes too; they're an emerald color I think. She's not one who would like to be fucked in a bathroom stall; that's for sure. She looks like one you take to a poetry reading or something more special. Suddenly, Deirdre pops in and floats at my right side. "So you're on the prowl?" she asks arrogantly. Then, Clyde appears on my other side. "I thought you are into chicks with big tits and whore-ish?" he questioned. "Get the fuck out of here..." I hissed to the two of them.

"What?" the red head replied, probably thinking I was talking to her. "Uh, no, I meant 'Hi, can I get two Cokes?' heh heh..." I caught myself badly. She cocked an eyebrow but ignored my outburst. I read her nametag; it says 'Reighlie' in blue ink. "Are you expecting a 'stall fest'?" Clyde hoarsely whispered, "Because you shouldn't project yourself into _touching anyone_." he added venomously. "Oh don't be so Amish!" Deirdre spat, "Might as well get the action as it flies before it's too late..." she sighed. I can feel a rush of pain going through my brain, making my vision blurry. "Um..." Reighlie stuttered, "I'll get you those drinks, Kenny..." My head shoots up. How did she know my name?

Kyle walks up to me and sits at the unoccupied seat next to me. "Kenny? Are you-" he starts to ask but I cut him off. "Kyle, just forget about it..." I snapped. He looked hurt but not blatantly womb. "Hey did you see my friend Reighlie around? She has this shift." I stared at him, I cannot even think of what this could mean. "Fr-Friend?" I stuttered. Kyle looks at me and just nods. "Yeah we met at some Jewish Youth thing. Why...are you thinking..." I know where he was going with this so I cut him off. "Never mind..."

The game of pool is one of my few gifts the son of a bitch of a deity has granted me. I learned the trade to get a few more bucks. I've never really played for fun before. Eric and I were on a team against Stan and Kyle while Wendy kept the score. They were making a couple of cracks at people but particularly me tonight. I usually go along with the jokes to get a laugh but tonight I was pretty irritable. While lining up my shot I can hear Eric mutter "Banging it like last night..." It was really retarded but it still got to me. I hit two solids in one shot giving us the lead. "That's it Kenny, the way you handle women, you just bang them..." Everyone nervously laughed. I put down my stick and looked at him coldly.

"Maybe you would be able to bang something other than your vacuum if you dropped weight." I spat. Stan almost choked on his soda and Kyle just stared. "Go screw yourself you white trash Mic." Eric replied. Hearing 'Mic' was too common but getting old. "How about you lick some balls..." I muttered low enough only he could hear. "How about you make me McCormick!" he screamed. I placed my hand firmly on my 8-ball. I pegged the ball toward his head but he dodged it a near second before it pulverized his face. The ball stuck into the wall. I breathed heavily. I can hear Clyde's words _Release you veriosity and they'll treat you like God _running across my brain. Eric slumped against the wall, crying like a baby. I just walked out of the place without a word.

* * *

I couldn't think or talk; I could just walk in the dead of night. I choked on invisible tears as I trudged through this white sheet of frozen rain. I can feel hail pegging against my frail body. I fumble in my pockets for a cigarette. I could find my lighter but the cigarettes may be at my house. "Need a butt?" I hear behind me. I turn to see it was the red head Reighlie from the bar. She has in her hand a plain white cigarette with a filter. I graciously accepted it while puffing away. We shared a smoking bond of talking while puffing away our problems. She's really easy going and fun to talk to about things. I have never seen a girl wear the least revealing outfit in my history of dating and fucking either...

"I've heard of your infamous ways of dating..." she says with a grin, "Stories go that you will pick a girl, give them fries, fuck them in the stall, and then leave." I look at her and smile. "That's not true at all, I give them a soda as well..." We both let out a laugh and then a sigh. It's fun to laugh when they don't mean any harm. She takes a drag and lets out a sigh. "I have to get going, I'll see you around?" she inquires. I just give her a nod. "Good-bye...Kenny..." she walks away, I can hear her boots click against the cement as she disappears into the hail and sleet. I let out a relieved sigh...I never thought not fucking someone you just met was possible.

I returned to see the upstairs completely dark. I can hear creaking noises from above. I want to throw up my soda all on the floor but it would clash with the other entire throw up stains on the carpet. I crept upstairs, trying not to be heard. I silently closed the door and lay down on my bed. The smell of this house: shit, piss, beer, and cigarettes, cloud my nose while I drift off to sleep. I don't even bother pulling the covers over. I just want to relax. I can't even feel my legs anymore it's so cold in here. I just want...sleep.

* * *

I wake up to heavy breathing in my ear. I look up to see my father standing over me with a belt in his hand. Before I could react he lashed me on my stomach. "Where's the money, boy?" he mumbled in his drunken state. I cough my lungs out from the sudden hit in my respiratory. He rips off my hoodie and shirt to make me bare. I cover myself with my arms, trying to hide my nakedness. "WHERE'S the money!" he screams. I give him Kyle's change, 2.18. "THAT'S IT!" he screams while hitting me in the back. I yelp out of pain, waiting for this to be over. He steps out of the room. _oh no..._

He comes in with this belt except this one has shards of broken glass on the end. It's adapted from what the Romans did to their prisoners. He ties me to my bedpost so my back faced him. I held my breath and said the only prayer I knew by heart. "If I die before I wake, pray the Lord my soul to take..." The crack of the whip hits my lower abdomen, I can hear ripping of my flesh. I scream my lungs out. I let out fists of screams and crying as the hits keep coming. One glass caught my cheek, slicing it cleanly but painfully. I limp against my bedpost, grabbing on anything for strength. He stops and drops the whip. "Bring...more money..." he slurred. He leaves me tied, blood caked, and crying myself to sleep.

* * *

End of Chapter Four

HDM: PLEASE REVIEW OR I DON'T GET TO HAVE A PET SEAL! O.O;;;


	5. Job Ate Shyt

Chapter Five

Job Ate Shyt

**HDM**: I would like to thank everyone for all of the über nice reviews -give you all a cookie and a hug- . Oh, and do NOT try to threaten my seal, busters -hugs Bianca, the seal, protectively- XD  
**Bianca**: O.O;; -holds a sign saying 'help me she's nuts'-  
**HDM**: awww you're so precious!  
**Bianca**: T.T;;

* * *

If blood is thicker than water but water is better for you, why do we choose blood anyways? 

I'm not going to fathom a reason why he does the things he does. I want to believe that it's all a long but fantasized nightmare and I haven't awoken yet. The whips knock me out of that fantasy. I find myself on the roof of my house crying. It doesn't matter anyways. It doesn't matter if you cry or scream. You can pray to whatever god you believe in. You can wish that it'll all change. Fact of the matter is, it won't change. Even if it does change, it didn't change for you. No, they would never try to help you. They want to punish you for whatever sin you committed. They want you to suffer.

I feel like Job...

If you don't know, Job is a character in the Christian Bible. Yes, I know why would white trash read the Bible...good question. Actually, I've read quite a few novels on random religious books. I read up on Buddha, Judaism, and Christianity so far and touched on Deism and Wicca. Job is a guy who's the pawn in God and Satan's hands. Satan basically makes a bet with God that Job won't worship God if he isn't 'comfortable'. Job is left with no wife or kids, no house, no money, and is sick.

Now, why would God let this happen? Job did NOTHING to God. It goes on that Job still questions God and He gets mad at Job and said something about being too arrogant about the mystery of God. I would question why I was suffering when I did what I was told! They took away _everything _when all the sinners and betrayers get _everything_. We cannot rely that they'll get their just desserts because maybe there's a flaw in the system! See, _God fucks with us all..._

If I never get credited for anything; I'm born hated. God hates me, Satan hates me, and Earth hates me. I mean, why would the heavens kill a _fucking eight year old_! I realize that it may be just South Park in general but that's not it either! I was struck by lightning in the Amazon! I figured that it was the people I hang out with, maybe they are the reason I'm like this...but I cannot blame those simple thoughtless monkeys. They laugh at pain, they do not care if I live or die but as long as someone else doesn't get killed with me. I wanted to believe that they were my friends...but would friends really just forget?

* * *

I am at the bus stop once again. It feels so robotic sometimes, as if it's da-sha-vu. My so-called friends are bickering with one another as usual. I wanted to throw up my inners from their childish banter. Maybe being a hated mongrel, I shouldn't let it affect my social life. 'What social life?' you may ask once again. I am not quite sure but enough that people do know me or for my infamous ways of women. "So, McCormick did you knock up a broad last night?" I hear Cartman's voice rasp. "Why would do you call girls 'broads'?" Stan muttered, "Are they people or objects to you?" Cartman looks at him and grunts. "It's not me who uses them like that!" 

"No..." I replied, breaking up their argument, "I didn't have my way with anyone this week." I think the first time Eric had nothing to say for about ten seconds. Kyle decides to break the silence. "That's great Kenny, um did you get home okay last night?" I love the hypocrisy, he actually cares if I was either home or sleeping outside, it doesn't make a difference anyway. "Yeah..." I answered monotonously. "Did your old man care?" Stan asked. "Does he ever?" I replied sourly. Stan falls silent to my response; I guess he doesn't want to act anymore.

Before class started Kyle pulled me over to talk one-on-one I guess. Oh, persistence, naive, and incredible simple Kyle. He actually thinks we're friends, does he not know of how close of being enemies we are? Hm, he's making an effort, I guess I should play along..."Kenny, what the fuck is wrong?" he flat out spoke, "What's going on with you? Are you hurt? Did something happen last night? Tell me!" He threw all of these lines of questioning at me. I just kept shaking my head but I didn't avoid his eye contact just in case he thought I was hiding something.

He grabs my wrist and pulls me forward; I wince. I bit my lower lip to try not to cry out. He doesn't realize that I'm sore from the handcuffs. He stares at me; he knows something that is not right. "Kenny..." he breathed, "Does he hit you?" I whipped my wrist out of his grip. Why does he want to pry himself into my life? When will he learn that you never meddle in a McCormick's affair but you let them rot in peace? I try to say something but nothing came out of my mouth. Soft noises escapes my vocals but that was it.

"KENNY!" Kyle screams, "DOES HE OR DOES HE NOT HIT YOU!" Some kids looked to see what was going on, I felt my cheeks start to redden. I can hear mumbling, "white trash" or "flamers" or the great "man whore" when they saw me. I backed away, I wanted to get away from it all. Kyle's eyes widen; I know he didn't expect this on a Wednesday morning. I stare into his true green eyes, without any flaw or imperfection. I want to _rip them out. _No, I don't want to do that. Oh god almighty what the fuck is wrong with my brain? I...I need to run, get far away!

All I can hear behind me is Kyle's scream. I wince at the sound of his voice. The tint of concern and sincerity shrieks in my ears like a cat that got its tail stepped on. It was snowing so the blinding white flakes whipped against my poorly covered skin. I got the snow in my eyes, which isn't too pleasant. The fact is that I'm afraid; I'm afraid of telling anyone especially Kyle about my circumstances. I don't want my paternal unit to get in any more trouble than he already is. I wanted to tell him; I really did. There's just too much at risk.

* * *

I reek of filth...of everyone's filth. Maybe it's all right for everyone else to roll around in this filthy mess we call life but I'm not satisfied. Damn you to the dankest regions of Tartarus...maybe when you are with the great sinners and scandals you'll listen. Who am I talking to? I'm totally off the deep end to the point I'm falling. I'm free falling and enjoying the rush of new feeling. It's a feeling that I have never really tasted before. It dulls my sense of reality. I cannot comprehend the vision of the perception I could, it's all fucked up like being high all the time. Nothing has a consequence anymore. I cannot be bound by normal human limitations anymore. 

I'm officially insane I think...

_Enemy inside of me! _

I'm caught! I cannot kick them out  
Their claws are wrapped around my throat and they are squeezing tighter  
Insanity is coming over me  
Their every wish is my command  
No way out

I need to celebrate this new-found feeling of release! I need to steal a bus, go get my tongue done, get involved with a fifteen-person orgy! I need to let out this amazing feeling of release! I don't need any kind of drug to make me feel like this! It kicks my cigarette craving right out of my head! I have so much energy it's incredible! I could run a mile and go hiking in time for dinner! I wonder if I bled I would feel it?

_I feed them, you will too!  
They're gonna take control of you!  
You'll know when they have got you trapped  
Everything looks cloudy and you feel like you're on fire  
Inhabited, I wish that I were dead  
My blood has turned from red to black  
No way out!_

My house, where is my house? Where's that barren shit hole of a house to be? Did it run away or something? Hah! I can laugh without feeling guilty! Is this what my little friends were pushing for me to feel all of this long? Sure, they did it in a different way but they wanted me to release my feelings and I have! I don't want this feeling to ever go away! Hehe...I'm laughing, I like that.

_When they come for you  
They see right through your flesh and bones for soon you'll be their home  
They know you deep inside, the things you can't try to hide  
No hope after the first bite_

What if it goes away? How do I keep this feeling in me forever? Is it something that's eternal or does it need to be refilled like a SUV? That would suck; I would pay a grand a year. Hah! Another joke I just said! I like this me! I don't feel so inclined to be cold and insincere. I feel so...fabulous it's unnerving!

_Look out 'cause they are onto you  
They'll cut you open, crawl inside and you'll be lost forever  
Don't try to run 'cause you're the chosen one  
Your world is gone, no turning back  
No way out!_

_The Invasion from Within by Tsunami Bomb_

Still, this feeling must lead to one thing to another. It's all a flip of a coin, but a pretty coin, though...I like the shininess. Concentrate, Kenny! Okay, do I really want to go in the direction of homicidal maniac that fans love or will I be one of those gothic morbids who slit my wrists because I'm different? The homicidal one is catchy but unlawful and the suicidal one is really old and cliché. Hm, some can balance both; I wonder if I can be a mixture of both. Hm, I don't have much to be either one. I guess I have to work on it...

I have a lot of work to do...

* * *

End of Chapter Five 

**HDM**: Kenny is official cwazy! Hahahaha! Thank you all for the reviews! Now, Bianca can have a treat! XD  
**Bianca**: Oo;;  
**HDM**: well we got seven reviews for the last chapter so you get seven fishies!  
**Bianca: **-eats fish- XD -has on a sign 'review or I don't eat'- o.o;;;  
**HDM**: bye!


	6. Lick Your Bondage

Chapter Six

Lick Away Your Bondage

HDM: kinky, ne? lmao okay I would like to say I don't play favorites but...yeah I do. I know one of my reviewers has already received some of my favortism by reading her story. (you know who you are lmfao) Reviewsfavortism and me happyquicker updates, comprendre?

If you want me to use your name in these A/N, feel free to tell me

And on with the monstrosity that got you all diseased...

The thin red line was painted white...

Everything still existed as it stood, it just felt like it's morphed in a twisted horrific...thing. Blah, I cannot talk, or think without sounding like a toddler. Does this new found perception I've achieved tap into my brain? To enjoy this blissfulness, it uses up my brain until I have the I.Q. of a nematode? No, I need my few intelligent thoughts, how can I enjoy happiness without it? Sure, people like Cartman can be dumb as nails and still be happy but not me!

There must be a loophole...

I scramble around my house, trying to find anything. I start screaming for any of the little guys that float in my head. I see Clyde flipping through the T.V., watching Judge Judy. I run to the little imp, who is so transfixed to the screen. "Please, Clyde, I need your help!" I pleaded with the furball. He rolls his yellow tinted eyes and looks at me. "Go to the goth porn pixie for help..." he growled, "You like her anyway..." My eye begins to twitch, NOW he wants to be difficult! "No! I mean, no, I don't like her more than you!" I thought up. He looked a bit interested.

"So, what's up bub?" he asks, turning off the television. "Something happened, as if I heard a snap and everything became blurry. It seems reality and imagination merged inside my head. I don't know how to keep it without my brain being shriveled into a raison!" I explained. He nodded and looked like he was in deep thought, or thought there was a bug on his brow. "Do you remember what I've said to you about the man?" he asks me. I nodded in agreement. "Remember how he solved his problem?" he continued. I again nodded in agreement.

"So...I kill?" I breathed. He gives a toothy grin, "Oh, never a random kill, just a 'required' kill..." he hissed. "You mean my parents..." "Well why not? I mean come on they hurt you enough already! I mean besides the burning, the beating, and the raping, they've pretty much used you like a piece of tissue." he laughs at his own stupid joke. I redden at the thought. "But really, you have to do this...not for me but for your _happiness_..." he concluded. It seems so...right. Am I willing to go the extra distance, to take the next step in my happiness evermore?

Will I lick away my bondage and be free?

I find myself in the kitchen gazing upon the knives. They look so dull today, maybe I should sharpen them up a bit. _No, the duller it is the more pain it will inflict. _I bite down my lower lip. 'No, I want to sharpen for kitchen use, no carving parents, only chicken...' I repeated in my brain. _No, no NO! You want to Rip and Teartear into the Fleshthe flesh, which Covers the impure Soul. _My brain thumps against my skull; I grab my head and skake. "No...just chicken, no people, just chicken..." I breathed. I can hear someone clear his or her throat. I turn to see my- mother.

Her eye was rimmed with a dark blue haze. Her arms are covered with bruises and cuts and she's limping. She gives me a look of disgust. "Why are ya yellin' like that?" she asked. I was about to respond but I fall silent. "I didn't know what to make for dinner..." I muttered. She snorted at my answer and left the room. "Damn pest..." she muttered. 'Fuck you bitch...' I mused.

Again, I'm still in the predicament I was in before she interrupted my argument. Suddenly a more feminine voice pops in. **_It's useless to kill others when others will replace them tenfold..._**I look at the reflection coming from my window. I see a kid without much hope or cause. A kid in which has no future or destiny other than to rot in the dank streets of South Park. Lukewarm ambitions mixed with damned predicaments equals a fucked up me...do I want to continue rotting alive or would I rather rot in the Earth? **_Think about it, people multiply like rabbitsFucking vermin. The Soul you posses isn't Made to be lived here but Beyond this RockAway from it All. _**

I don't want to be like that, nor do I want my parents to live either. If I go, I want them to go out with me. I don't know when or how we'll go but I'm not leaving without revenge. I want both shreds of this happiness because I have just tasted this bliss and it's too sweet to give it willingly. Like it or not by the little fuckers in my head, I will satisfy my pleasures, not their own. God, that was perverted beyond belief. Speaking of which, I think I have a condom in my pocket. Huh...how about that...

**Later at Night**

I decided to make do with my sources and I go back to the bar. I walk in, everyone stares. I scratch the back of my head and took a seat at an empty booth. The red head, Reighlie, looks over at me and smirks. "Why is everyone staring?" I asked softly. She points toward the pool table, more specifically the dent in the wall where I almost pegged it into Eric's big fat head. Actually, the ball is still stuck in the wall. "Oh..." I said with a grin. She whacked me with the menu before handing it to me.

I stayed there for hours, just watching the scenes unfold. I gaze upon the drunks; their stories are interesting to hear. Some are about lost profit, some family issues, a lot are relationships. All and all, I like to see them just come in and drink away their problems for at least tonight. I guess I like watching them because I know I'm going to be one of them, someday.

"Why are you still here?" I hear behind me. Reighlie walks up to me and cocks an eyebrow. "Hey I have every right as a white trash hick to be at a bar." I exclaimed. "Nah, you're better than a hick..." she says while taking an opposite seat of the booth. She plays with her ring and looks at me. "So...I guess everyone knows about the ball, huh?" She gives me a look, "Yeaaaah...". I stare at the round ball that could have impaled Cartman's eye. Maybe I should apologize...heh...that would be too too rich for even Cartman's taste. I would be eaten alive by the pregnant son-of-a-bitch.

This girl walks up to our table and gives me a look, a look I didn't like, mind you. It was a 'I-let-you-fuck-me-and-you-now-hang-out-with-this-bitch' look. Reighlie just rolls her eyes and cracks her fingers together. I stare in the grains of the table, not wanting to make contact with those eyes. They remind me too much of Kyle, they're too..._pure..._

I can hear her shuffling in her seat, probably getting uncomfortable with the awkward silence that settled after the girl left. "Kenny, she wasn't the only one who gives that look to you, huh?" she asks. I look up at her, I have no idea what's she's talking about! "Wha- What are you talking about?" I stuttered. "The look where a chick gives another chick to say 'I slept with him, he's mine' look. I've been getting this look from a lot of girls..." she rums her fingers against the table. "Did you...think we had something?"

_Fuck..._

"N-No! Nu-Nothing would ever be between us! Whu-why would you say such a ridiculous accusation?" I stammered out my lie. She looks unconvinced but looks away. "You're not looking for a good time?" she asked in a cold voice. I just nodded, not wanting her upset. "Fine...I believe you..." she gets up and brushes off the dust from her long-ass skirt. "Kenny...be careful..." and on that note she went back to work...

I find myself outside of Kyle's house, just staring. I want to look through the concrete walls and peer upon the house. So, as stupid as I am, I slink toward the side of the house and climb upon a trash can to peer into the window. I can see Kyle and his brother on opposite sides while the mother and father on the other. I can see the lips of the father moving, they must be praying. It looks so inviting in there, even though Kyle's mom is a bitch and a half. I touch upon the windowpane, wishing I can go through the glass and join them all.

The trashcan begins to rock. I try to steady myself but I tumble into the snow. Unfortunately, my leg hit a broken bottle and everything from the trashcan made a lot of noise. I squint in pain, biting upon my lower lip. I grab my leg instinctively, to see the blood shed. A tear streams down my cheek, the salty tear against my frail skin. I can hear the door open. I hope to god it wasn't Kyle's mom. Maybe they'll think I'm a stray cat...an ugly stray cat that's been abused. A glint of green shines as Kyle walks towards me. I shift into a fetal position, wishing I was gone and he didn't see me.

"Kenny?" is all I hear muffled behind my hoodie. I don't want to leave my pathetic position; my leg hurts too much to move anyways. I feel a hand grace across my back. I jump at the gentle touch but I wish he didn't touch me there. "Oh God..." I hear him speak as he again touches my back. I bite down on my lip; it hurts too much to let it be touched. Please, stop touching me...I know you want to help but please. He feels against my bone, and the bruises speckled against my skin. I know he cannot see but he knows. He grazes his finger across my gashes that are now scabbing over. Over the bumps and dents in my body, he found most of the physical things wrong.

"Kenny...why..." is all I hear come from his mouth. I refuse to look up at him. I refuse to see the person who wants to save me from something I didn't asked to be saved from. He places his hand on my leg but quickly takes it off. He found the new gash that compliments the rest. The blood on his pale snow-pigmented skin and upon the snow-white ground. It's all around, the scarlet liquid we're inclined to bleed. Isn't is ironic? The irony is just leaving me in stitches...

_When you try to break your bondage, blood is the only key._

Lukeworm

The blood is lukewarm

Lukewarm against my lips

As I drink upon that accursed liquid

I'm inclined to taste again

The fowl venom of red

Wet across my snake tongue

Binds me to my victim

Of lost love that cannot be found

End of Chapter VI

HDM: this goes out to my top reviewers! I love you all! Please R&R and make me smile!


	7. Compassion Wears Black

Chapter Seven 

Compassion Wears Black

HDM: Welcome! Say hello to my special guest, Faery Goddyss:FG comes in her bed still asleep:  
Audience:cheers:  
FG:wakes up to applause: what the fuck?  
HDM: I am doing this at 4:00 AM and you were still sleeeping!  
FG: Well I'm not like Johnny and stay up:chases me with a hatchet just lying around:  
HDM: ahhh:Bianca comes in and does a seal dance:  
FG: aww:we start dancing along:

* * *

_I feel like my insides are as liquid as the blood that spills from me..._

I want to get away from here but he'll surely stop me. I'll run and he'll stop me. On the other hand, my leg is fucked up...it's between the bleeding and the excruciating pain that throbs every other second. All I can hear other than my heartbeat is Kyle's voice. It's so sickening, the kindness that comes from his accursed mouth. I want to vomit really bad. God, he's trying to pick me up, probably to his Hebrew Haven and so I live Happily Ever After and all that fucking bullshit. I pry open my eyes and look to see my escape root.

I elbowed him in the stomach and ran...

Why the fuck did I do that? I don't even know how hard I hit him or if he is okay. I'm such a fucking prick. I want to shoot myself for doing that to him. I can barely see the houses that run past me. I can't see where I am or which house is mine. I trip on a stone and I come crashing into the snow. The coldness against my cheek stings so bad. I want to get away but pain binds me to this rock. Where will I go? Wherever I go, there will still be pain and suffering. There is no such thing as happiness when it comes to my life or me. It's taboo in a sense...

Clearly I do not think of ending my life here and now. Maybe it's the only way and the right way. I wander to the next streetlight like a moth attracted to light. My leg throbs and I cannot stand its pain. I wish I could just saw it right off of my body. Hm, if I did do that I wouldn't be able to attract anyone for awhile. I can hear someone calling my name. I try to walk away but I fall once again. The voice gets louder as I drift into a unconscious state.

I feel a blanket draped across my chest. My eyes shoot open. I scan the foreign place I am in. It has pictures and other family things in this place. I hear someone coming so I duck my head under the blanket. I close my eyes and just listen. The person picks up the phone and I hear the dialing. The voice sounds familiar. _"Yeah, he's here. Don't worry about it. Uh huh..."_ the person is a guy, that's for sure. _"Huh? Yeah I'll give him clothes for school. Sure, just meet up at the bus stop, okay? See ya..."_ I open one eye to see the one that's holding me here in this heavenly sanctuary.

_It's Stan?_

He looks at me and just smiles. He doesn't look like what he normally dresses in at school, a gray t-shirt with sweat pants on. Normally when I see him, he has a million and some odd black shirts and pants with chains and other kinky shyt wrapped around. He looks, like himself. What am I to judge him? I was always convincing to the eye as a poor redneck so why should I have convinced myself he was an uber satanic Goth? My insides throb when I think of it so I stop.

"Kenny...are you that retarded?" I look up at him and squint my eyes. Do you say that to someone who was sleeping in snow and shyt? "Uh...yes?" I say with a grin. He just shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. He comes back with a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other. On the plate it's some sort of a sandwich. He places it on the coffee table next to me. I grab the food and wolf it down. I drank the water faster, making me want to hurl. He just laughs at me.

"So, why did you elbow Kyle and run away like a crazy person?" he asks a different question. He sits down on the couch and just stares, waiting for my explanation. I just shrug my shoulders and look away. "Oookay, do you have a reason why you have gashes?" I feel anger flowing through me, _who_ does he think he is? "Who are you, my mother?" I replied. He looks unshaken but drums his fingers. "How can I help?" he asks. "I don't need anyone's help..." I muttered under my breath. "Sure you don't, and that's why Kyle calls me in a panic because you left a trail of blood..."

Stan is different. He never acted like this before. He never pried in my business before, why start now? Does he feel like he has an obligation or just that Kyle is worried? It's always about his way of living, not anyone else's...especially mine. I don't see why he cares...now. "You don't care..." it slipped off my tongue and into the air. It wasn't soft either so he definitely heard it. "What?" he asks with an undertone of anger. "Kenny, I'm not like Kyle and sympathies, I want a straight answer NOW."

"Why? You think you have the right to know how or why I'm like this, huh!" I scream, "You _never _cared and neither did Kyle! Eric is a fuckhead so I didn't ever expect him to care!" Tears started to swell in my eyes but I don't care now...I want to get this out now before...you know... "Kenny...calm down..." Stan warned. "No! I won't calm down! You don't know _anything_ about me or what I do or why I do it in the first place!" I yell. "Bullshit! That's easy for you to say, you don't know anything about my life! You just think I'm some _satanic cult goth_ who doesn't care about anyone!" he retaliated.

We both fell silent. I can't believe I said that, or that Stan said that either. I don't know what to think, am I like the others that disregard us like trash? I- I don't want to be like that...not ever. So my things are shouting in my brain. _'Don't tell him anything' 'Tell him everything!' 'Run away' 'Stay here' 'Eat turkey!'_ That one was a little weird...but that's beside the point. What do I want to do? Obviously there are a lot of things telling me besides Clyde and Deirdre what they want me to do. I don't even know where my conscience fits into all the yelling. Sigh...I have such a headache.

We just talked for a long time. I did wonder if his parents would wake up to find out some strange boy is in their house. He explained they're away for the day so I was half relieved. He told me about how one of the Goths left their comic at gym and he started to read it. Eventually, he started going to places like Hot Topic and Zipperhead and listening to different music. He didn't want to do drugs, be in an orgy, or go to Goth Clubs and things like that. Peer pressure put him in the position that he didn't want to, quit football and become like the others.

"Stan, you're a smart kid...why did you listen to other dickheads?" I asked him. He just shrugs his shoulders. "In high school, you don't go against the current..." he said, "I either be one thing or another, I cannot like both..." I can relate to that, sort-of. I am in a family of stupid rednecks but I try to educate myself. If I had a dollar for every time I heard "Go back to your trailer park." I would be a millionaire. "Stan, to be great is to be misunderstood." I said to him. "Quoting the quack Emerson?" he laughs. "I'm serious! So you read Johnny but like football, big deal! Don't get convinced by dickheads that think you're like a plague!"

He smiles that genuine smile I haven't seen since we were in elementary school. I look at him and smirk. "Besides, all the goths are bi, do you really want to deal with them hitting on you?" We start cracking up, because we know it's too true. "Too true..." he sighed. I just quirk an eyebrow and stared. Then we start laughing like hyenas once more. We stopped after awhile and just fell silent. I know he's waiting to ask me, to ask why I have gashes on my back and bruises on my body. Why I don't say anything or ask for help. It's written all over his face.

"Kenny, do you want to be another statistic?" he asks. I look at him in confusion. What kind of question is that to start! "Uh...I donno?" I answered. He just shakes his head and laughs. "What kind of fucked-up question is that!" I yell. "You are a number...a number stating what general teenagers do." he started to explain; he still doesn't make sense. "You smoke, you're are among millions of people that do. You drink, another number. You have sex, another number." "What's your point?" I cut him off. "The point is, they don't care if you live or die. You are just a number that can be added or subtracted in their mesh of numbers." I look at him and furrow my eyebrows.

"I'm not the one that writes the statistic, Kyle's not one of the multi-billionaires who doesn't care if you rot in the ghettos. We care about you, you act like we are one of them." I look away. I cannot bear to hear him. He sounds too...true. "So you don't want me to be another number AND you want me to believe you guys care. You said it in one cute lil psychotic phrase!" I said sarcastically. "I'm serious, Kenny!" he says in retaliation.

"You guys don't need to worry about me. I'm fine! Really, I can do what I want and I won't get hurt. You worry too much..." He looks at me and stares. "Do you really believe that?"

_I don't know what I believe anymore..._

Making It

You study for years  
Just to get a piece of paper  
All the facts and figures  
Come to a close  
You have big dreams  
To be a movie star  
Or maybe a star athlete

Did they not tell you?  
All those years of studying  
Those years of dreaming  
Doesn't mean anything  
You will achieve nothing  
Receive anything  
It is all a miserable lie

* * *

End of Chapter VII

HDM: This focused on the side of Stan in which I didn't really get into. I like to bring other people into this story and see how they affect Kenny in the long run.  
FG: Really? I thought it was just a writer's block HDM: Nuh-uh!  
FG: Then why did it take you a week to think of a thing to write?  
HDM: O.O;

Special thanks to Faery Goddyss for appearing, review and tell me what you thought!


	8. Problems Burn Away

Chapter VIII

Problems Burn Away

HDM: yes, long time, ne? This is the development of everyone's friendship and Kenny's addiction.

* * *

I grow up in the place where I do not deserve to be designated as a real human being.

I walk into school and I look all around me. Kids talk amongst their clicks and others stare at me. I stare right back as I take my seat in the back. I stare in the black abyss of the chalkboard as the room filled with the monotone of my teacher's lecture. The smell of the chalk clogs my sense of smell and the morning after-taste lingered in my mouth. I slump against my desk and start to fall asleep. The droning of the teacher soothes my thoughts as I reach sub consciousness.

I feel a paper ball hit against my head. I look at it and any suspects. I see Kyle smirking. I mouthed off 'what the fuck?' to the Jew. He silently laughs as he points to the paper ball. I uncrumble it and smooth it out. I can make out the letters almost clearly now.

_Hey Kenny! Dude, you look dead today...but when do you don't? I'm sorry I freaked you out the other night but I didn't know what to do! I heard you went to Stan's house. I hope he didn't make you feel too much like an asshole. Maybe it'll knock some of your shit off. Anyways, there's a party tonight, maybe it'll relieve some tension. I'll tell you at lunch. FYI don't tell Cartman, he'll be a fucking pansy. _

_Later..._

After class I met Kyle at his locker. He brushed his crimson bangs out of his eyes and waves. I flick the note at his head and cock a brow. "Hey!" he replied but just let the note bounce to the ground. "So...sympathy or pity?" I ask the Hebrew. "What are you talking about?" he asks with a smirk. I just stare at him. "It's no big deal, Kenny. You would have found out about it anyways, I just wanted to let you know. Is that alright with you?" he replies with the same cocky-ass grin. "Whatever...just gives me an excuse to get drunk..."

Cartman looks at us with disgust and curiosity. I unveil a half-eaten candy bar and a can of soda from my hoodie upon the cafeteria table. Stan walks in and greets almost everyone with a smile. He's wearing...gasp...jeans! Sarcasm, of course but it was funny to look at other people's reactions. Sure, he still wore a black Hot Topic style shirt saying "Keep Staring I'll do a Trick..." but it suits him today because fuck, everyone was staring. Kyle gives him a look, not a disapproved look but a "you son-of-a-bitch" look. He starts laughing as Stan just smiles.

"Did one of the Goths say something?" Kyle asks. "Yeah, they said I was a fag and a betrayer...I told them to FOD..." Stan shrugs his shoulders as he gets in line for lunch. Kyle just shakes his head and leaves to the vending machine. I slump my head against the table. I see Cartman reach for Kyle's bag. "Don't do anything stupid..." I mumbled. "Piss off Hick..." he growled. Before I could say anything I see Kyle come back with 2 bags of chips. He threw one at my head; I look at him bewildered. "Eat it and shut up..." he said without any protest coming out of my mouth.

Kyle shuffles in his brown bag and finds a tin foiled object. There's a note upon the tinfoil. "Just a little something" it read. He quirked an eyebrow but opened it anyway. "What's that?" Stan asks while returning to the table. "I donno, I guess something my mom gave me..." he replied. He opens to find a nice clean-cut sandwich. He gingerly takes a bite. And in the millisecond he spits out the half-chewed sandwich. "WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!" he screams. "DUDE, what's wrong?" Stan asks. Cartman begins to etch a smile and it grew as fast as Kyle's rage. "Kyle!" Stan yells, "What the fuck is it..." I look at the sandwich and I look at Cartman.

"Ham?"

Eric starts laughing, fucking laughing. Kyle throws the sandwich at his head but he keeps on laughing. He points at Kyle and grins. "Yo- You shoulda se-seen your f-face!" he could barely get out with his intolerable laughing. "What is your problem Cartman! Kyle did NOTHING to you and you do a thing like that?" Stan yells. "It's just ham..." Eric says ignorantly. "Just ham...just fucking ham!" Kyle screams, "I'll tell you what it is you fucking turd. Unlike you and a number of people can say 'I'm Christian or I'm this and I don't follow anything to be redeemed, I FOLLOW things because if I don't I WILL be punished."

Eric stops laughing. "Kyle, it's JUST MEAT. You don't go to HELL because of HAM!" he yells, "Kenny would know, he went there every damn day!" I just look away. "Don't bring me in, Cartman..." I mutter. "Why not? Have you seen Jews being fed pigs because they 'ate a ham sandwich'? No! See, it's pointless." I throw my can away and just stared at him. _"You have no idea what I have seen so I would shut that black hole you call a mouth." _this cold voice crept off of my lips. Kyle just walks away in a fit of rage as Stan and Eric just stare at me.

* * *

_Why did he care so much though?

* * *

_

It's around seven and I am up in my room getting ready. I brushed out my golden color hair slowly. The bangs fall past my rounded chin as the back almost grazes my shoulders. Tints of brown and orange wash within the faded yellow hair. Shades of peach and yellow mix in my facial tone as well as tints of rose across my cheeks sometimes. I spray some of the Axe and then search for a shirt and jeans. I found dark faded jeans with a trucker belt buckle looped through it. I pulled my thinning arm through one sleeve and then the other. I buttoned the shirt carefully in so that I don't miss a button. I look at myself in the mirror. Someone would say I look quite attractive right now.

Then again...I'm so ugly...

I hear the knocking upon the screen door. "It's open!" I yelled down the steps. I search for my white sneakers I swiped a month back. I grabbed them with one hand and headed down. Kyle's eyes meet mine along with a smile. He looks...fucking awesome. His hair shags in his face but the bangs cut at his eyes. The mixture of the crimson hair compliments his emerald green eyes. He wears this button down shirt and it's pinstripe with browns and reds mixed in very well. The black pants goes great with the outfit and so do the black and red sneakers. "What?" he asks. I just look away. Kevin is staring at the television. "Where you going?" he murmurs. "Party...later..." I replied coldly.

* * *

_He doesn't care, they never care

* * *

_

Once you entered the house the smell of alcohol and weed was in the air right away. Stan is talking to some girl I don't know "Personally". He's wearing a red shirt with a black jacket over with black jeans. He tips his drink towards us and keeps talking. I look at Kyle and he just shrugs. Music throbbed through the stereo as people sat around to get a drink. At one point me and Kyle separated and I find myself with a shot glass and a 40 ounce of Southern Comfort in front of me on the coffee table. Craig beckons me to sit with me as he pours some in a shot. I become hesitant and look around. Whatever was keeping from taking the glass evaporated from my skin because I took the first drink.

After five swigs of the I can feel the effects going to my brain. Even Tweek was mellow with a bottle of Smirnoff Green Apple in his left hand and a blunt in the right. Craig handed me a bottle and I twisted it off easily. I get up and walk across the house. Someone taps me on the shoulder and I see it's Stan. He looks at me and then the bottle. I was waiting for a lector but all he did was ask me where I got one. Huh, maybe Stan is mellowing out. I pointed to Craig who pointed to a case of them. "Where's Kyle?" I ask. "What?" he yells. "Where's Kyle!" I yell in his ear. He points to the backyard screen. I open the screen to see him leaning against the balcony post.

"Are you a stick in the mud?" I ask him with a grin. He snaps out of it and just laughs. I touch the side of his face and smeared it against my fingers. "Lipstick?" I ask. His face turns three different shades. I laugh and just hand him a bottle. "It's a party my Hebrew friend, lighten up..."

I am completely smashed...I think...I don't remember. After the cocaine and a shot of heroine, I think I'm fucked up. I collapse on the couch, ready to throw up. Man I wonder if I will OD right now…Stan left earlier with some friends. Kyle's around but I don't know where. I trace my finger around the rim of the glass. Everything is blurred, like a watercolor painting...pretty colors, heh. I see purple, yellow, blue, and red people running around the rim of the glass, trying to hit each other with mallets. They shriek and shout and keep chasing around the rim. My brain is pounded with thoughts and irrational screams. I want to shut them out.

I don't know why I do it. Two hours I had a bottle, and one hour I got a blow job from someone I didn't even know, and now I still have a needle sticking out of my arm. Water fills my eyes but a bat it away. Why do I do the things I do is a mystery in itself. Is it a way to get a temporary high so I don't recall any problems for one night? Maybe so that I can dull the voices screaming in my head. Either case, it is not the right thing and I know it is not the right thing. I don't care as long as I don't need to know the reality of my problems.

Someone nudges my shoulder. I look up to see it's Kyle. He just stares at me, without a nice smile. I take out the needle and I look at him. "Come on, Kenny...we're leaving." he calmly says. No! I don't want to leave this...haven. "wHyz? I don't Wanna Goz anyzwherez..." I whine. He pulls me up from the couch and walks me to the door. When we get outside I start yelling to go back. I turn but I double over. Kyle takes me to a trash can as I yack everything out of my system. I stumble back on the sidewalk as Kyle follows me. "Whyz you not like me?" I ask. "You mean the being shit-faced? I only had a bottle, you had 3 including a shot of heroine, cocaine, and 5 shots of-" but before he could finish I mumble "don't feel good..."

And on that note I pass out on Kyle.

* * *

Upon the Windowpane

I look outside the window  
Just tapping on the pane  
Gazing upon the kids  
They run, jump, and play  
I want to be with them  
They look so happy  
Father says I can go  
Once my bruises go away

* * *

**End of Chapter VIII**

HDM: Yes, there will be reason (I think) why Kyle spazes at ham…I just gotta remember it by the time it comes around. Cartman is a dick…but is there reason? (actually I WOULD know but that's not the point) Stan with another girl except Wendy! (dun dun dun) Kenny is looking to be worse than better, will that change? Why am I asking you this! Review or I'll never write or get to the plot of this story!

Updated 5/25 I will TRY to write this within a week so bear with me! I just updated my Squee/Pepito story Blood Red Rose so I now gotta do this now...sorry!


	9. Burning Butterflies

Chapter IX

Burning Butterflies

HDM: I'm sorry for the long awaited update (that's a bs sentence right there XP) but I'm moving in a month and I only have online at my dad's and my mom's working computer. Now, I gotta wait when I go to my dad's or late at night when my mom isn't working. :sigh: this better be worth the hassle so I better get uber good reviews from all of you:ahem: anyways, enjoy!

* * *

The taste of dirt and having cottonmouth isn't the best luxury...

* * *

I am here on the ground, I can hear police sirens all around me. The grass feels cold against my arms...wait where did my shirt go? I am only wearing a white beater and my baggy pants. Great, now I look like white trash and a whigger. One of the fuzz picks me just to slam me slam me against the police car. As he is giving the "You have the right to blah blah blah..." speech, I have a camera right in front of my face. Perfect, COPS is covering South Park tonight...before I am handcuffed I flip off the camera with spite. The cop slams me harder against the car as the cuffs wrap roughly against my wrist.

"Kinky..." I say with a smile as the cop is yelling at me for some "Defiance" crud. He throws me in the back of the cop car along with...Kyle? "Why you here?" I ask. "They think I'm a druggy too..." he murmured. He looks at me with those angry and frustrated eyes. I love that the swirls of olive and green apple greens compliment his emotions oh-so well. His hair grazing across those eyes, I am entranced in a way I haven't been in a long time.

Clyde appears in my vision, blocking my view of Kyle. I get a little upset by this, for some twisted reason. Or...is it that twisted? **"YOU are in big trouble mister! Not only did you almost OD but you're now endangering someone else's sanity! Are you that fucking selfish that you care only about sufficing only a little bit of sex just so you're satisfied enough to go find another? I can't work on two head cases at once, it doesn't work like that. Do you hear me!"**

Deirdre appears next to Clyde, now they completely block my view. I'm getting really agitated now. _"So now you decide to actually kill yourself with drugs? No, you want a temporary high, huh? Whatever you're thinking, this boy will NOT make you happy. He's not like the whores you got with for a few bucks at a time. He is like the red head at the bar, they are deeper than a puddle which means you WILL get hurt! End it now before he hurts you!"_

**"Back the fuck off of him you goth porn pixie! He's MINE and you will not rot out his brain with your suicidal thoughts!" **Clyde barks at Deirdre. She cocks up her eyebrow and just yawns. _"You're so predictable, you know...kill and kill, it's almost robotic. Why would you waste your anger on someone else, it proves your stupidity..." _**"You did NOT just call me stupid!" **Clyde roars. _"What if I did?" _she retorts in a cocky manner. "Just SHUT UP!" I yell and at once they disappear. "What?" Kyle asks while looking strangely at me. "Ne-- nothing, just booze talk..." I excused my behavior very casual-like. He nods and drums on his knees impatiently.

I keep staring at him, just transfixed upon his face. I don't know why I do but it feels right to look. He looks at me and furrows his eyebrows. "Why are you staring?" he asks roughly. I blink a couple times but I say not a word. He now keeps staring, but only because I don't give him an answer. "You're eyes..." I mutter. He looks at me confused as I look up again. "It's your eyes..." He cocks his eyebrow at my response. I move closer to them, just looking. His expression turns uneasy as he's backing away. "They are entrancing, like a random red rose. Captivating to the senses you cannot help but look. Soon you want more than to just look..." as I ramble I graze my arm against his. He pushes me and I wince in pain. He immediately retracts his hand to see that his palm is red.

"What the hell!" he yells. I look and I see one of my wombs has ripped open. It must of been when the cop slammed me. The beater is colored with hues of browns and reds...not only the tank but my peachy flesh. Kyle gently grazes his fingers around my womb to see how big it is. His expression soften to a sympathetic gaze. "That's your weakness..." I say with a rough laugh, "You sympathize with others easily..."

Then...I kissed him...

And then...I passed out...

I wake up to find black bars in front of me and cinder blocks around me. I try to get up but blood rushes quickly into my brain. I let out a moan and look around to see I knew anyone. Then I see Kyle on the adjacent bench laying his head. He looks at me and then gets up. "Have you finally sobered up?" he asks coldly. His voice clangs against my brain and I squint harshly. "What are you talking about?" I ask the Hebrew. "Do you know what the fuck you did! You KISSED me in a POLICE car on COPS!" he screams. I look at him, he's gotta be joking, right? Why would he make something up like that?

"Dude, I swear on my brother's grave that I didn't even know I was drinking!" I say frantically. "I'm NOT into you! I like the clips, not the dicks!" He laughs nervously and shakes his head. "Are you sure about that, Kenny...I mean you seem the type to-" I threw something at him but he dodged it easily. "Dude, I'm kidding, EVERYONE knows you're straight as an arrow..." but he stops the insult there because the hick of an officer came by. "Okay, someone is coming to pick you up. He'll be here in a few short minutes." He murmured groggily. He must have had a bit too much of the som'thin-som'thin.

This guy comes in with a backwards cap and a baggy Rocawear jacket. He wore pants like mine, over worn and too baggy for your own good. He looks up at the officer and points to our cell. He flashes an ID picture and the officer took out his keys. He pulls out fifty bucks and he looks at us. Kyle's eyes widens but the man gives him a look and Kyle closes his mouth. We walk out the door and Kyle snags the guy's hat. "Damn Stan how did you do it?" he asks our unveiled rescuer. "Easy, I snagged some kid's ID when he was passed out and I just wore my Halloween costume."

We decided to hang around Stan's house until the morning. We got in and the TV was on. COPS was on. We watch in horror as the scene unfolds. It must have been live because we saw our mugs on the T.V.:

"Where are you going, son?" Barbrady asked Kyle. "To my house, it's down the block..." Kyle replied but then looks at the camera confused. "Really, because we just busted in on party with teenagers like yourself drinking and doing some illegal activity, might know any?" Kyle just shakes his head. Then the camera man follows another one down the street and you see me in the grass pinned down. "Kenny!" Kyle yells but the one cop slams him against the car and the cuffs snap against his wrists.

The camera then focuses on my face; you can see trickles of blood from my forehead. I give the infamous finger and my head, again, gets slammed harder against the car even harder than before. They snap on the cuffs, getting a perfect picture of my bleeding arms and wrists and you see me get thrown into the car. Then they start filming Officer Barbrady, asking what they'll do with us.  
"Well, uh, we just wait til their parents come pick them up at the station..."  
"Wait, you're not going to throw them in jail!"  
"This is a small town, if we lock up every drunk and druggie we'll only have the kindergarten and a few gays."

Then the officer takes a double glance into the car. "Did you see that? Were they...no it can't be." The camera focuses on Kyle's face and me- passed out. "Oh, he's just sleeping, okay I guess we're heading back." Barbrady concludes as he gets into the car.

Stan looks at us and just laughs. "Oh my god that was perfect!" he says between his howls, "Kenny, I can't believe you actually flipped off the camera!" Kyle just keeps quiet and I feel nauseous. Stan looks at me and then his smile suddenly turned into a grimace. "The bathroom is upstairs to your-" before he finished I ran upstairs. I ran to the porcelain bowl and feel faint. After about ten minutes of puking up my insides. Stan and Kyle are outside the bathroom talking through the door. "Kenny! Are you dead in there?" I answered with a moan. I grip the rims of the bowl as I feel it come up again. I keep thinking why am I here, why am I throwing up my insides in someone's house not even my own? Clyde and Deirdre float above my head, just laughing. Clyde is the first to speak, as usual.

"**You're a fucking wanker, huh? I mean, are you such a bloody plank that you gotta fuck with everyone's life so theirs is just as bad as yours!" **_"I have to agree with the fur ball with this one my basket case friend. You must enjoy fucking with everyone's head because you're so fucked up in the head it's beyond screwed." _They taunt me, they fucking taunt my disease, or whatever the hell is wrong with me. "Get the hell OUT OF MY HEEEAAAD!" I scream but they keep floating there, just laughing.** "Buddy, if you send us out, that wouldn't be so fair!" **Clyde responds along with a cackle. _"Yeah, why don't you send all the other voices out first? They're crowding the space." _

"What are you talking about! I don't HAVE any other things in my head!" I back up against the bathroom door. I can hear the pounding against my head and back, they're begging to come in. "I'm not crazy! I'm completely normal teenager that likes sex, drugs, and alcohol! I'm normal!" I yell at the two. **"Are you in denial? That's just rich, kid. You were the one a couple days back you were nuts and now you take it back! When you go down this road you can NEVER go back to Sanity City you're in Coo-Coo town for the rest of your life!" **Clyde exclaims with such venom in his voice. _"Actually, not necessarily the rest of your life. You can end it now if it's sooo harrd. Come on, Stan has plenty of pills in the cabinet; we can just "borrow" a bottle or two. It won't be painful, I promise you that." _Deirdre starts coaxing me to the medicine cabinet.

I roll up in a ball on the cold tiled floor. I wrap my arms around myself trying in vain to comfort myself. I mean, who else will comfort a drugged up fool? I can see my red arms, I'm sickened by them. I am dirt, I am filth, I am what you throw out to rot. I am now insane, I am an insane drugged up fool. I look at my arms where the needles were. They still trickle out fowl crimson tonic called blood.

"My insanity bleeds from me, it bleeds over everything good and right. When the tonic gets you the good and right it twists and distorts it to be fowl and wrong. I let the bleeding continue, because secretly I want everything good that's around me to rot along with me." Stan and Kyle break down the door and the two floating...things conveniently disappear. "Kenny, what is-" Stan stops as they stare at me. In my pathetic state, they just stare and listen to my ramblings. "I kill everything with this blood. Insanity is contagious because I gave it to you..." I mutter with tears in my eyes.

"Kenny, you're going to be alright..." Kyle softly speaks while putting his hand on my side. I wince at his soft touch. "I'm sorry..." I whispered. "Why are you saying sorry?" he asks me, getting closer. "_For let-ting my se-selfishness ge-get in the wha-way..._" Tears start rolling down. Kyle cocks his head in confusion. "You're not being selfish..." he tried to explain. "We'll get you off the drugs and alcohol if you want, Kenny." I let out a cry of pain. I enclose myself more into to ball. "_I diz-diseased ya-ou, and I ne-knew it.._." I whimpered softly. His eyes dilated slightly.

"Kenny, you were drugged up and drunk, you didn't know what you were doing. I'm not mad...anymore! It's going to be okay." Kyle tries to comfort me with his sympathetic pleas. "_NO! I ME-MESSED with you! You are ne-NOW diseased BE-CAUSE OF Meh-ME!_" I scream. I try to get up but pains in my stomach cripple me to just getting up halfway. Stan just stares at us, wanting to know what's going on. "_You DON'T un- understand!" _I cry, "_You both are going to be LIKE me! THEY W-won't St-st-op with je-just me!_" I wrap my arms around my skeleton.

Well, Stan picks me up and throws me in the tub. "HEY!" I yell but he already am feeling the shower head against my head. The water pours from the shower head and it clings to me. The clothes sticks to me and I can see the red water swirling down the drain. "That will cool you down...now get a grip!" Stan says in a demanding tone. I look up at them, like how children look up to their parents. Not to be funny but I wouldn't want these two as my parents. My blonde locks hang around my face so I can only see through the hair. I push it back but it keeps falling back in front of my face. It's annoying...

"Now about that tantrum, they WON'T get any of US! I know that you're scared BUT YOU NEED A GRIP!" Stan screams. "Kyle and I got over our problems and you can do the same!" Kyle looks away. "Right, Kyle?" Stan looks at him now. "Kyle, you told me you stopped." Kyle looks pleadingly in his eyes and in mine. I wipe my tears with my hand, what are they talking about? "KYLE! DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT STOP!" Stan screams. "STOP WHAT!" I scream back. Kyle wraps his arms around his stomach, looking like he's going to blow.

"You don't understand! I tried to stop!" he yells in his defense. Stan looks livid, he knows what Kyle is talking about and he's not happy. "WHAT are you guys talking about!" I ask again."Kyle, show me..." Stan says between his teeth. Kyle shakes his head like a child unwilling to give up a toy. "Kyle ,SHOW ME!" Stan screams. "NO!" Kyle cries, "You don't know, Stan!" Stan sits him up on the sink, looking like he'll kill anyone right now. Kyle looks so helpless. His green eyes swirl with not anger but depression and anxiety. Are they the color of green? Stan pushes up Kyle's sleeves. Kyle hangs his head, trying to escape our eyes.

**I'M JUST A FUCKING JEW **on the left and **FUCKING SMUCK** on the right.

* * *

Burning Butterflies

Nothing is ever right

Because I'm not

Everything that's good

I will burn

Because I'm not fine

I look at everything

Nice and fine

I take a razor or lighter

I slash and burn

Until it's distorted

Just like me

* * *

End of Chapter IX

HDM: see how well I turn the tables on things? I'm off today (if you did not know I updated on wed 6/8) because of the seniors graduating and all that. Well, R&R because I'm bored and I need something to do


	10. Only Skin Deep

Chapter X

Only Skin Deep

HDM: I don't think anything of mine is beautiful in a sense that everything goes wrong in my stories. :sigh: alas, I cannot create something too happy because it always gets crushed...maybe it won't happen here...maybe...oh btw thank you all for the reviews, it makes this lil italian chick proud :sniff sniff: I LOVE YOU ALL!

FYI: I reintroduce my OC character and, yes they do have a moment, trust me when it comes to me it won't last (**:x** i said too much!)

* * *

I couldn't stop staring at the words. The words scream in agony from his flesh as if you can actually hear the words ringing in your head. I never saw Stan so livid, his dark blue eyes blaze with anger as he stares at the scars. Kyle grips the end of the sink, trying not to look at either one of us. The shower is still running but I ignore it. It finally hits me, I'm not the only one that's not right. I just never thought Kyle could possess that much hate to defile himself in such a way that can never go away. I never thought a person, especially Kyle, could have so much anguish or hate for life or himself to do such an act. I thought it was only with "Emo or Goth kids" but never Kyle...

I can vaguely remember our grade school days. The drugs and alcohol blur memories so it's hard to recall. I can remember the days when we had no cares. We would watch Terrance and Phillip, go down to Stark's Pond, or anywhere in South Park. We would watch the adults and how they were like aliens compared to us; we could never truly understand why some would be so...stupid. We considered ourselves sane...because we weren't like them. Aside from Cartman, no one we knew was really like the adults. We thought that we'll all be together and never ever be like the adults.

_I realize we've grown up to be just like them..._

We're now much older but hardly wiser. I think we knew more back when we were eight than we know at sixteen. "Kyle?" I let out softly. He looks at me with those green eyes. "Kenny, don't say anything...it's not what you need right now..." he said it with this udder twist of compassion it's almost revolting. How can you tell someone it's none of their concern when you're a cutter? "Kyle! This is NOT all right!" Stan yells. "When would you stop, huh? When you cut too much! You _lied _to me, god damnit!" Stan's voice pulsates through the room, you can feel his anger. He points to me. "DON'T think you're off the hook, Kenny! I'm not through with you!" I look at him and my eyes narrow. "Hey, I'm quite capable with dealing with my problem!" I say, rather asshole-ish. Kyle jumps off the bathroom sink and looks at us. "It's an addiction..." he said like it was an excuse, "I can't...stop..."

Stan grabbed his wrist and pulled him downstairs, leaving me alone. I wonder if they ever made out? You know, just to be curious. I turn off the water and climb out of the tub. I look at myself in the mirror. I gripped my hair rather forcefully and tug at it. I hate my hair, it makes me more like white trash. The heroine still vagely lingers because certain things stand out more than others. I took scissors from the cabinet and started snipping. Piece of golden blonde start falling into the sink and floor. I keep on taking pieces from the sides and back, trying to make myself look any better. I am so fucking ugly on the inside it's sickening.

I stroke my new snipped haircut. I left some on the top and back but not much. I look, attractive...for once. I threw the rest of my hair in the trash and I walked downstairs. Kyle and Stan are sitting on the couch watching TV. They oogle me as if I'm an alien. "Dude, we're not leaving you alone anymore..." Stan laughs. "You two just left me like that pretty quickly..." I replied with a grin. Stan threw a pillow at my head but he hit one of the many pictures hanging around his house. Kyle laughs quietly. His arms are wrapped with medical bands. The words bled through the wraps, still mocking him. "Stan, do you have anything to calm him down?" Stan looks at me but sends a glare. I send him a look and he replies with another. "What the fuck are you two doing?" Kyle asks. I run upstairs to return shortly with a wooden box.

After about ten minutes the effects of the drugs take affect. The colors return and I am reliving the past hours in bliss. Kyle leans against me and starts laughing for some stupid reason. Stan is laying on his back making rings within rings. "So you guys going out?" he asks casually. "You know Kyle doesn't date dudes!" I say like no one knew that. Kyle laughs and takes my blunt. "Yeah but what about you, Kenny? I've heard you do both when you're fucked up." he says before taking a drag. I take it back quickly and Stan starts laughing. "How did we end up fighting to getting stoned?" I ask. Kyle rests his head on my shoulder and starts to nod off. "Next time, I'm inviting girls..." Stan said on a concluding note. "With your luck they'll make out with eachother instead of you..." Kyle mummbled half awake. I start cracking up and Stan just puffs out the rest of the smoke from the blunt. "Yeah...that would be my luck..."

I woke up with beams of ray shining through. I can feel Kyle sleeping against my chest and apparently I wrapped my arm around him. Stan slept on the couch curled up in a ball. I played with his hair, his hair straightened out when he got older but I think he secretly straightens it. I feel like something happened but nothing ever did. Clyde and Deirdre left me alone so I'm happy again.I try to stretch but I only can stretch the one half of my body. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to recall the past couple of weeks. I came from "Mr. I-Hate-You-All" to "Mr. Emo" and then "Mr. Crazy-pants" and then back to being "Mr. Druggie" all in about...two or three weeks? God, my moods are worst than a girl...

Girl...I remember that girl...that girl who was no one from around here. The one with the long skirt...and the green eyes. What is it with me being attracted to green eyed beauties? Er...yeah...forget I said that sentence.

/Flashback/

_I remember walking by Reighlie's house. I stood outside, just watching and smoking. I threw a pebble against the window and Reigh came to the window, looking pissed. "Why are you out there?" she yells outside. I gave her a smile that made most girls I knew let out an orgasmic moan. "Come out and find out..." I yelled back. "You're nuts!" she yelled but couldn't surpress a laugh. She closed the window and not a few minutes later she walks out the door. It started to snow. Flakes of white graced her hair, just magnifing her beauty. The cold makes the front of her face a rose hue. _

_"Why are you carrying a bag?" I asked her. She shrugged, it was a red small bag with funny Hot Topic style buttons on it. I tried to take it but she just shoved me into newly packed snow. I wrapped my arms around her and she tried to get out of my grasp. "Hard to get, eh?" I whispered in her ear. "That's apparently the way you like it..." her words were dripping with sarcasim. A few seconds later she pokes me hard in the shoulder. "TAG!" she starts running down the street. I caught up to her and grabbed her wrist. Reigh whips around and falls...into the snow. I just started laughing; I never did this with a girl...we're playing...and I don't really...do that._

_I helped her up but I kept her in my arms. She nuzzled her face in my neck, to keep warm and maybe a bit more. I took her chin in my hand and I pressed my lips upon hers. She kissed back, kissing lightly but then I pressed harder. She broke it before I could slip in my tongue...not really happy about that. She looks sad and happy at the same time. "Reigh...what's wrong?" I asked. "Kenny...we can't do this..." she let out. She bites down on her lip. "Why? Aren't you happy, don't you want this?" I ask. "I'm leaving in a couple days, I'm moving to L.A." she choked out. _

_"No...no no no NO!" I yell out, "Why! You don't want to be here?" I am silenced by her lips pressed against mine. I wrap my arms around her waist as she hold my head with her cold fingers. I lace my tongue with hers and I explore every crevise. I break the kiss and she starts crying. "I don't want to leave! I really don't...but Kenny, there's nothing here for me! If you stay here you're doomed to stay here forever! My parents say L.A. is a good place to start to be a somebody!" I look into you pure green eyes. "But you're my somebody..." Reigh's eyes glisten with tears as she buries her face into my chest. She will never know that I was crying, too._

/End of Flashback/

She's leaving tomorrow, I think. I have to stop by later today. Kyle stirs in his sleep. I shouldn't be with them, I'll just defile their purity. Their pure green eyes will be distorted because of me. I stroke Kyle's cheek, he wouldn't want to be with me, anyway. Being straight most of the time wouldn't help me. Besides, I don't want to do that to him. He's having a rough time, I don't want to make it even worse. I left the house before they got up. I started to go to my house. I can see Kevin outside. He looks at me with a smug look on his face. "You were on TV" he said as I walk to the door. "So?" I replied without a care. "Momma and Father saw..." he said with venom, "You're in trouble..." I look at him and shot him a dirty look. I should have never went in that house.

I didn't even get through the front door and a beer bottle come hurling for my face. I quickly put my arm up but the glass still stuck in my arm. I let out a yell and I look to see Father panting heavily. I hear Mother screaming "NEIGHBORS SHOULDN'T SEE OUR DIRTY LAUNDRY!" I can tell she was smashed, too. Kevin, like a true asshole, come in to close the door. Then with a _you-fucking-hick _type glare he leaves me in the cage with the lions.He comes and lunges for my neck. I drop down and I try to crawl away. Another bottle cracks against my back, I yell out a scream. "STOP IT!" I hear Mother scream. He whips around and stares at her. "St-stop it!" she stammers, she should've never said a damn thing.

He pushes her against the wall. "I CAN DISIPLINE HIM THE WAY I PLEASE!" he screams. He didn't see me get up. "BASTERD!" I yell as my fist meets his cheekbone. I tackle him down and I start punching his face. Streams of tears pour out. "STOP, PLEASE YOU TWO! NO MORE FIGHTING!" I hear behind me. I shouldn't of ever hesitated...he finds the broken bottle and slices my side. I scream and I stupidly fell to the floor. I feel my body rubbing against the rug. The wicked man closes the door. The scent of liquor is in the air. He takes out the whips and his new favorite, a cilace. It's a belt with barb wires, it's a religious thing for some Catholics but it's excruisiating. I try to fight him but he weighs more, giving him an advantage. He cuffs me to the radiator and rips off my pants and shirt. He's such a kind man because he kept my boxers on...so nice, don't you think?

He wraps the cilace around my waist instead of my thigh, so when I breathed it ripped into me. I screamed in pain. "YOU'LL LEARN, THEY ALL LEARNED!" he screams. "NO! STOP IT!" I can hear behind the door. That's...my mom? "MOTHER!" I scream, maybe I'll be saved by the one who is supposed to protect me. The nob jiggles but it's locked. The whips come harder. He then straddles my boxers. No, no not again! Please God no! "_MOTHER!_" I shriek, "HE'S GONNA..." but it's too late. All she can hear now is ramming and screaming.

She breaks down the door, just to see me in a fluid of blood, feces, and piss. I cough up blood and try to look up to her. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON!" she shrieks. What, you never knew that his new pastime is S&M, rape, and incest? She hits him and starts screaming. He cracks her across the face. "DON'T YOU DARE HIT HER!" I scream but he kicks me in the ribs. She crawls to me and uncuff me from the radiator. "RUN!" she screams. "Mom...I'm not gonna-" but she already threw my pants in my face. "GOD DAMNIT YOU CRYBABY JUST GET OUT OF HERE!"

I hopped out of the window and ran...

I don't know what to do, all I can do is run. I got the pants on but it started to snow. I'm running with no shoes, shirt, or jacket. I don't know where I'm running but I keep on going. What is going to happen to her? I didn't want to leave her. I can't do anything...yet. I need to go back but I can't do anything until I get some strength. The asshole underestimates me but I'll show him. I'm not a punk-ass weak fuck like in the past...but even if I too weak. I cough up more blood. "Kenny!" I hear a voice echoing. I try to turn to see but I cough up more liquid and I hit the ground, hard.

I wake up to the smell of candles burning. I see a giant Edward Scissorhands poster on the ceiling. I try to sit up but the pain is too much. I look to see Reigh on the opposite end of the room, just staring. I look her and smile. "What time is it?" I ask her. "It's late, you've been out for at least twelve hours" she replied. What? Well, I guess I did needed some rest; I sat up and looked at her. "I need to go..." I say casually, as if I'm completely insane...which isn't far from the truth. Her eyes narrow and she approaches me."No way, Kenny! You're NOT going out like some-" but I pull her in for a kiss.

She tries to break it but I push harder against her mouth. I want something, but I don't want...to take it. I suddenly just stopped. She strokes my cheek, where a bandaid is now. I walk to the window. "Kenny..." she calls to me. I open the window. "Cliché as it sounds, it's not you." I stare out the window, "I won't do to you that I've done to every girl I've met..." I start to climb out and I place my foot on some kind of ladder thingy for plants. "You're still not better..." she points out and I let out a laugh. "I'll be fine...I've had worse" I look away, trying not to look into those eyes, "Take care, don't let some dick take away your pure green eyes." She looks at me, confused but understanding. I kissed her on the cheek and I started to climb down.

Now...I need a knife...

End of Chapter X

* * *

HDM: Kenny loves the red heads nyah nyah! ;) Okay, um yeah for all you yaoi fans (if you're not an anime junkie it's basically guyandguy) this doesn't denounce that there will be any action, whether it be with Kyle or some random guy on the street. There is a reason for Reighlie, she is a symbol of something. I won't tell you, though, you have to figure that one out on your own. Tell me in a review, if your correct I'll put you in an author note. (note that it's not one answer) 


	11. Stealer Wheels

Chapter XI

Stealers Wheel

HDM: Yes, Well, Leela's Tears hit the nail on the head so yeah...she's hear today with us  
LT: **:is dressed in a panda suit:** why again am I in a panda suit?  
HDM: **:In a tiger suit:** We're saving the endanger species by diverting poachers' attention from them to us!  
LT: ARE YOU NUTS!  
HDM: I like mix **:starts eating some:  
**Poachers: **:sees us:** Those would make great money **:loads gun:  
**LT and HDM: AHHHHH **:runs away:  
**Bianca: O.O;;; **:sees poachers:** yipe! **:swims away in magical river:**

Kenny: **:ahem:** well since they are being hunted, this is a warning that this chapter is on the verge of M but for some reason HDM doesn't feel like changing the level. "Only if there's sex will I amp it up" apparently gore and violence isn't bad. **:shrugs:** So, a Warning: lots of descriptive violence, gore, language, and reference to Reservoir Dogs

* * *

Smile, because you're a filthy fucker...

I keep staring at my accursed abode. I keep thinking of all of those times I was beaten and raped and basically casted aside for know reason whatsoever. Piles upon piles of rage building from the inside. I've tried to make sense of it all but it became more ridiculous than the last. "I must of upset him", "He's having a bad day.", or my favorite, "I deserve it..." but the thing is...I have DONE NOTHING! Am I just cursed to be hurt the rest of my life? No, I don't want to be hurt by anyone...I don't want to hurt myself either. Well, I've came here to do one thing, and it wasn't to have a cup of tea and talk idly about the weather.

I walk around to the back of the house. I look around to see a couple of trashcans tossed around the shithole I call the backyard. I carry the trashcan right under the kitchen window. I climb on top and look inside, no one was in sight. I place my hands against the window and slide it up gently and quietly. I've mastered the art of sneaking in since I was ten. I make a small jump and I'm halfway in the window. I let out a small grunt as I squirm through the opening. I finally fall halfway into the sink but I catch myself before I crack my head. I look up, still no one hears me. I slowly inch one leg in through the window. I finally place both legs through and I crawl out of the sink. I look to see that the knife rack is conveniently near by.

I walk slowly and quietly into the next room. I press myself hard against the wall so I cannot be seen. I can hear screaming and yelling coming from the living room. I walk closer into the room but I am stopped by a 'thud'. I slowly turn my head into the other room, to see what's going on. I can see furniture disarrayed and some broken objects. The one thing that strikes me funny is the fact that my mother is on the ground...but my brother keeps watching the television.

She stares in horror at the man she once loved. Her face is beaten in and her hair looks like it was pulled violently. Rims of black and blue colors rim her eyes as her nose is dabbed with reds. She raises her arm in front of her face in a futile attempt to protect herself. I can see my father. His eyes burn with alcohol and hate. They are not the eyes she married, those are filled with no such feeling of love. His lips curl into a sadistic smile as he gets ready for another crack.

"YOU LET HIM GET AWAY!" he screams. Another 'thud' is heard as she falls to the ground. She coughs up droplets of blood. Kevin just keeps staring at the television, not even looking. He makes me disgusted, how he can just pretend that it's all normal. How can you believe that something this horrific can be anything along the line of normal? "Please! I- I- I won't let it ha-happen again!" she chokes out those words. His eyes doesn't soften to her words, only harden. "BITCH!" he screams, "YOU SAY IT JUST SO YOU WON'T GET HIT! YOU'RE A BITCH!" and he cracks her across the face, I think I heard a bone crack. Violence and anger starts rising within me. I can hear Clyde hissing in my ear.

**"Look at him, look at what he's doing to her! Those hating eyes toward a human being, let alone your mother. You know, the color red will look great on him..." **I look over to see him. His fur has gone from purple to black and the black patterns went an ultraviolet hue. His scales on the back look sharper and so does the fangs. His eyes are a lighter shade of yellow, just making his whole look more sinister. "What happened to you?" I asked him. He lets out a laugh, crueler than usual. **"Kid, your hate just gave me a whole new feeling...like it?" **his lips curled into a cruel grin. My heartbeat races and I start to sweat. A moment of fear sweeps over me. What if I don't do it right? What if he stops me like the last time?

**"Oh no! You're not turning pussy on me now!" **Clyde screams. I look at him, what the fuck gives him the right on calling me a pussy? Something entranced me to look into his eyes. I feel so hot, I'm boiling now. **"You will NOT pussy out of this, damnit! You WILL kill that bumblefuck and it WILL make you SMILE!" **those words swirled in my head. Everything just went red. Feelings of anger and hatred pile upon me like I was hit with a eighteen wheeler.

I hear another scream of pain. His back is toward me so he doesn't no anything of my presence. I drop to the floor and crawl on my belly. I come closer to the monster, the overwhelming stench of alcohol is on the rugs. I suffice a gag and keep moving. The rug rubs against my skin roughly and I can feel rugburn forming on my belly. I ignore the stinging as I'm two inches from his feet. My mother looks over at me, her eyes flash a mixture of confusion and terror. I mouthed the words 'It will be fine...' as I slide the knife in view. She almost let out a scream but remembers that he's here. He turns to see what she's looking at. Before he could react, I slash his heel quickly but deeply. Blood squirts out in my face, I close my eyes in reaction. All I can hear is screaming and then a thud. I wipe away the blood to see he's on the ground, swearing and screaming.

I knock him unconscious with a table lamp...

He awakes in a dark and cold room. I can hear his moans of lingering pain and confusion. I smile, I couldn't help but smile. I finally have the upper hand on him. He cannot do anything but pray for a quick death. Then again, God doesn't listen to the damned...I should know. Blood stained my face, giving me a crueler look, I think. Then again, who's worrying about how they look when they're torturing? "Well, Sleeping Beauty finally woke up." I let out in a low tone. I can hear him shuffling and muffled noises. It doesn't help him that I gagged him with an apple and then duck taped his mouth. I saunter over to the chair with the monster residing. I feel the ropes and chains and cilases that confine him to the chair.

I rip the ducktape off quickly and I hear the fucker scream. I laugh, I couldn't help it. It just so funny, such little pain he cries but when he gives pain to others, you'll never see him shed a tear. I take a knife and shove it in the apple. The fear sweeps over him now because he starts to scream frantically. I take out the apple with the knife so suave I'm impressed with myself. "I SWEAR TO GOD KID I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" I hear him scream. I start eating the apple off of the knife. "ARE YOU INSANE! YOU'RE NUTS, YOU KNOW THAT!" I look over at him. "You know, listening to you calling me such mean names is really making me lose my appetite..."

I take the apple off the knife and peg it in the wall. I look over to the stereo in the corner. I go over and put on number six on the cd. "You know you shouldn't let me watch such violent movies, Father, because they give me such interesting ideas..." I said with a undertone of sarcasm. Stealer Wheels begin to play, yes I'm playing the Reservoir Dogs soundtrack. I put in on loop so the song repeats. I can see him start to panic, the look of fear is in his eyes.

_Well, I don't know why I came here tonight  
I got a feelin' that something ain't right  
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair  
And I'm wonderin' how I'll get down those stairs  
Clowns to left of me, jokers to the right  
Here am I stuck in the middle with you_

"PLEASE KENNY! I- I'M SORRY!" I hear him scream. I place myself right on his lap and stare at him. Anger and insanity sweeps in again. "WHAT! TELL ME, WHAT ARE YOU SO SORRY ABOUT?" I scream. He looks at me, not knowing what to say, obviously. "NO, YOU LIKED IT, DIDN'T YOU? YOU LIKED TO BEAT ME, HUH? HOW ABOUT RAPE? YOU GET A KICK OUT OF INCEST AND RAPE HUH?" Tears start rolling, but they are not tears of guilt or sorrow. "PLEASE, I CAN CHANGE!" he tries to use that old line on me...he used it for so long. "Silence, your words sicken me..." I growled. I take my pocket knife to his left ear. I start cutting into the flesh. Blood start spraying everywhere. He starts squirming and screaming in pain. "If you move, the cilases will _slice._" I warned him, but I don't really care. Let them cut, he needs the insurance of pain for him to realize that he's still alive.

_Yes, I'm stuck in the middle with you  
And I'm wonderin' what it is I should do  
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face  
Losin' control, I'm all over the place  
Clowns to left of me, jokers to the right  
Here am I stuck in the middle with you_

The ear isn't too hard to cut through. The tiny bones are just annoying. The blood still leaks out, it gets kind of annoying to wipe away the blood from my eyes so I think that I'll just keep it on my face. I lick my lips, his blood tastes sour, like him. But, I'm strangely addicted to the blood, it's more poison but I still want it. It finally comes off. "Hey, now you're Van Gogh..." I chuckle at my own little joke. I guess he's too much of a hick to know who the man was. I tossed the ear around. I watch his eyes follow the ear. I hop off his lap and start hopping around, just singing a random tune that's not even Stealer Wheels. "It's funny how you found the time! To expose yourself and be another one of these! Psychos all around me! Psychos all around me! Like to say my head's not right! My head's not right!" I scream into the ear, " Medicated aren't we all! Turning into you, Got me crazed with what you do! Inside my head there's a vision of you! And nothing's changing! Nothing's changing!" I look at him. "I'm sorry, I don't have much of a voice..."

_Well, you started off with nothing  
And you're proud that you're a self-made man  
And your friends they all come crawling  
Slap you on the back and say  
Please, please_

I sit on his lap again, just looking again. "What...are...you?" he asks me. "Well, I'm Kenny, that lovable character that everyone loved to see me die..." I started on a sour note, "No one ever cared about Kenny, Kenny was just something to laugh at or just make the infamous line 'Oh My God You Killed Kenny' following the old 'You Basterd' insult." I take the knife and glide it along his cheek, a drizzle of blood oozes. I lick the blood from his cheek. "You know, I can get used to blood..." I say with a slight laugh, "Killing is better than being killed...hands down..." I look away. "Your eyes, they're too evil..." I growled so low. "Wha-?" he couldn't finish his question because he started to scream. I would scream if I had a knife in my eye.

_Well, I'm stuck in the middle with you  
And I'm wonderin' what it is I should do  
Is it cool to go to sleep on the floor?  
I don't think that I can take it anymore  
Clowns to left of me, jokers to the right  
Here am I stuck in the middle with you_

I look at the eye on my knife, eyes are quite interesting. I had to dissect one before but the human eye is so much more interesting. I still got squirted with blood, ironically in my eye. I laughed, isn't that so ironic? Haha, it feels good to laugh. He lets out a whimper. "I also can't stand your voice..." I said with a grin. I take the knife and slice a womb diagonally across the front of the throat. He tries to yell but it's silenced. "Don't worry, you won't die, I didn't hit anything...vital..." I assured him, "I just made you unable to scream...that's good for everyone.

_Well, you started off with nothing  
And you're proud that you're a self-made man  
And your friends they all come crawling  
Slap you on the back and say  
Please, please_

I keep staring at him. He isn't so tough now, hehe. "Hm...something's missing. There's still the matter of the dick..." My lips curl into a insane grin. His eye widen. He tried to scream but it was only a squeaky whine. I shuffled around in the room. "Hey look, a stupid bear trap you used to hunt a few years back..." I just started to laugh. He tries to move but the cilases stop him. "Hahahaha!" I couldn't stop laughing. It's just too perfect. I walk slowly to the monster. I set the trap and I aim it at his nether regions. He tries to move but he knows he can't. "Bu-bye..." I said with a hint of a childish tone. The crunch of the trap was so...lovely.

_Well, I don't know why I came here tonight  
I got a feelin' that something ain't right  
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair  
And I'm wonderin' how I'll get down those stairs  
Clowns to left of me, jokers to the right  
Here am I stuck in the middle with you  
Here I am stuck in the middle with you  
Yes, I'm stuck in the middle with you  
Stuck in the middle with you_

"Well, the song seems to end. But, it will start again. You, unfortunately, your time is up." I said almost sad. This was so much fun. I do need to end it, I'm getting bored with him. First, I poured salt on all of his wombs, so he can have another burst of life. I grabbed the chair and I pulled it toward the bathroom. I grabbed him and lowered him into the tub. He looks around to see why he's there. He starts feeling the sensation of water against his skin. He looks like he's relieved, that maybe his sadistic son will let him go. But, why does water smell so bad?

He stared at my match. He stared at my face. The cruel smile scares him but my eyes makes him shit himself. It the eyes of insanity, it's scarier than hatred. Insanity, you can get away with that...you can get away with _murder_ when it comes to insanity. "Adieu mon pére, see you in Hell..." and on that note I struck the match. In slow motion you can see the match flying toward him. In seconds he's engulfed with flames. I just watch, there's nothing flammable in the bathroom, not even the curtains. I walk out of the room and I just laugh. Laughing, it's a great feeling, you don't ever have to be happy to laugh. Laughing is a coverup in most cases, it keeps you from saying anything or feeling anything. I love to laugh...it's better than to cry.

Laughing comes right before crying...

* * *

End of Chapter XI

LT: OMG!  
HDM: OMG I KNOW! I BEAT FAERY GODDYSS! WHOOP!  
LT: NOT THAT! YOU USED A BEAR TRAP?  
HDM: It seems appropriate...  
LT: Is it appropriate that we're dangling in a cage and a pot is under us?  
HDM: yep!  
Bianca: **:holds up a sign saying REVIEW AND SAVE US:**

(The lyrics Kenny were singing was part of the song Inside My Head by Orgy)


	12. Inevitable Aftershock

Chapter XII

Inevitable Aftershock

HDM: I love you all! **:give you all candy: **You guys really make my day when I see those reviews and I'll try not to disappoint you! I...promise not to cry

Bianca: **:gives me a tissue:**

HDM: **:cries a moat:** I'm in a moat of emotions!

Bianca: O.O;; **:sign reads 'Help Me I'm Trapped Here With a Loon!':**

Sorry for the long update, my phone line is whack and my mom needs to be on to check her résumé so yeah I had time to think this one through. No, I still have no idea where this is going! If you didn't notice the story is M, I changed my mind...Chapter 11 alone is M but I read through my story and not even I can look over it! O.O;;

**"I keep thinking about how little Paul's death meant to me. I'm not sure whether it's because I've been desensitized to violence by endless bloodshed on telly or because I just hated his guts."**

"If art is so violent, why is it that hooligans use Stanley knives...and not paint-brushes?"

**"It just proves what I was saying. Nobody's got any morals. The world's sick. Everybody's sick." "Except us. We're just poorly."**

from the comic strip Kill Your Boyfriend

My hands are shaking, my whole body is shaking. I can't believe it! I actually completed a murder! I sit outside the bathroom and just listen to the burning...the cackling of the fire and the smell of flesh flowing from the door. I took the fire extinguisher to the corpse but it's still burning a bit. The face of my late father is one of twisted pain...finally he can taste eternal flames...but I don't know why I don't feel more satisfied? I mean, I killed the thing that tormented me for years, you would think I would be doing cartwheels by now. I shake my head, maybe it's just the aftermath of it all, and I'm just not ready to be a full time homicidal maniac.

I can hear whimpering downstairs still. I decide to walk down to see Mother and Kevin. I step down slowly and eerie-ish...like a killer from a slasher fic. There's no one in the living room but the TV is still blaring horrible reality shows. I look around to try to pick up on the whimper. Suddenly I hear a hushed tone, as if they were trying to hide from me. I walk around, trying to find anyone around. I open the closet and out comes flying is a shoe thrown at my face. I quickly put up my arm but it hits my eye still. I stumble back and look out of my good right eye. I see Mother in a fetal position with Kevin in her arms. They look at me in horror, and then slowly come out of the closet.

"Kenny! What happened! We heard screaming and we thought that you were dead or something else!" Mother cries while wrapping her arms around my neck protectively. Kevin crawls out of the closet and gawks at my blood stained hands. She ignores them and she starts crying. "I tried to go in but the door was locked! Where is he? Is he still up there?" she asks in a hushed tone, so he won't hear her. "He's...dead..." I said in utter seriousness, without a tint of guilt or remorse but no satisfaction either. She stares at me, trying to see in my eye if I'm lying. "No, he can't be...how!" she yells.

"You killed him..." Kevin whispers harshly. I shoot him a look and he soon shut his mouth. Stupid boy, does he really want to pick a fight with an insane murderer? "Shut up Kevin! No one killed no one and that's that!" Mother starts to panic and begins to pace. Whether she believes I killed him or not, there is still a corpse upstairs. "Can we make it look like a suicide?" she asks me. I can't believe she's conspiring to get rid of her husband. Well, I guess the fear of prison and the years of abuse sends the remorse factor down to nil. "The corpse is burned..." I explained to her shortly.

"Really? Well, we could say in a fit of rage he was swinging his beer around and went to light a smoke and POOF! He just burns up..." she says in a panic toned. It sounds reasonable, I mean everyone knows he drinks and smokes so it's no big deal. Besides, our police force isn't like CSI; they are not equipped with the smarts or technology to figure it all out. I walked back upstairs and I pour some liquor on the body, to give it the ol' smell of booze. I drank the rest of the beer and through the empty bottle in the room with my 'toys'.

The police came in and out of the house the rest of the night but there are no leads that it wasn't a suicide. They believed my mother and her tears...but they weren't forced. I stayed in my room and just sat on my beat up bed. I look out the window to see the lights are going away, finally. My hands start shaking again, I can't stop fucking shaking! I already smoked a pack but I still continue to shake. Maybe, I'm regretting my whole murder. It's not like I can take it back, it's over and done with! I think I'll take a walk...maybe I'll calm down.

It starts to snow again, but I'm so hot I'm sweating my balls off. I just keep walking around, not really knowing where or why I'm walking. I look over and I see everyone has his or her lights out. No wonder, it's like three am. No one would be up, except maybe Tweak but he's so fucking paranoid. I pass every nice home on the block, nowhere near as shitty as mine. I stop to see Reighlie's house. I walk to the side of the house and start climbing the ladder thing. I tap on the window gently at first but then a little louder. She stirs in her bed and opens one eye. Oh Christ she almost fell out of the fucking bed!

"I'm going to kill you!" she says through her teeth while opening the window. I started to laugh but I get hit in the head...hard. "Ow!" I yell but I cover my mouth, I don't need her parents hearing me. I crawl through the window and land halfway on top of her. She blushes like mad and I grin. "Why are you here at this hour?" she hisses as she crawls away. "Had to get away..." I said coolly. "Yeah I heard what happened to your dad," she says with an undertone of sympathy. She's in this cute spaghetti strap pajama top and shorts. This maybe the first time I actually see her legs.

"You should wear stuff like that more often to show off your legs." I said with a grin. "Yeah, you and a million other horny guys would want that..." she spat. I sat on her bed and let out a fake yawn. "I need to crash here for the night, do you mind?" She looked at me like I was nuts. "Kenny, you're a fucking loon!" she yells. "Is that a yes?" I ask while taking off my shirt. She rolls her eyes but nods in accord. "My parents are leaving early so it'll be cool," she says with a sigh. I walked out into the hall to use her bathroom. I need to clean off some of this blood off of my hands. That would look improper...heh...

I walk in with only a blacklight on, giving the room a more mysterious look. I walk toward the bed and felt that she's already lying down. "Other side..." she murmured. I crawled right on top of her anyway, because I'm an asshole. She shoots up but I pin her down. "Ken-" I cut off her yell with my lips. I press my body against hers and I placed my hands on her hips. She gives in and laces her fingers around my neck. I press harder, trying to slide my tongue in every other place I didn't reach before.

She breaks the kiss and looks at me with those beautiful green eyes. I graced her cheek with my fingers, pushing away a strand of hair. "You're so beautiful..." I whisper in her ear. She smiles like she never heard such a compliment. I kiss her on the cheek and then on her neck. I start to bite into her flesh like a hungry vampire. She moans in satisfaction as I go lower. I kiss the middle of her breasts before the top covers. I start to play with the buttons on her top and soon I had her topless. I kiss her stomach tenderly and I look up. She flips me so now I'm on bottom, not a bad view.

She starts buttoning back her shirt, to my dismay. "No..." she says in a hard tone. Shit...I forgot she's not easy. I guess I went too far for her taste. "I'm...I'm sorry..." I apologize solemnly. "Kenny, if you think that this is just going to be another good time...then you should leave..." she says in a cold but shaking tone. "But..." I tried to explain, "I didn't mean to..." I bite down on my lower lip, actually that would be a lie. She gets up and covers herself with a robe. I take my shirt and shit and just climb out of the window without a goodbye. "I'm sorry that I cannot give that to you...but I was hoping maybe I could give you something else..." I hear her before a sob.

I keep walking around till I get back to my room again. The time read four o'clock. I couldn't hold my tears for long. I throw everything around in a fit of rage. I cannot see straight. "Kenny...why are you crying?" I hear behind me. I look to see Deirdre, but my height. Her skin is not a pale blue but a pale fleshy color. Her hair is still blue and her eyes are still gray but she's wearing a nicer black and gray dress and she lost the wings. Her smile is still sad; after all she's the queen of depression.

"It's nothing," I say while wiping my tears. She wipes one with her finger, she has a cold touch. Suddenly I feel like complete shit. "So why are you normal height?" I ask her. She just shrugs her thin shoulders as she sprawls on my bed. Funny, she could be a great playboy if she laid off the crazy depressions…heh, pixie porn star…that is funny. "Why were you crying?" she asks. I just shake my head. "Just a girl..." I mutter bitterly. "Oh, but it was that particularly special red headed girl..." she says with a smirk. "Leave it..." I warn her. "Oh, poor darling, I guess she wasn't ready...what a shame...and she gave you the boot?" she said with false pity. I give her a glare, a sure sign to shut the fuck up.

She motioned me to sit down and I reluctantly obeyed. She placed her hands on my shoulders. Again, I started to feel even more melancholy than before. She started whispering things in my ear. "_She stomped on your heart like a cockroach. You will only suffer heartaches in your life because no one will ever love you. Why live with that when you know of the wonderful things beyond the bone and flesh? Leave this place..._" But the phone ringing cuts her off. I try to pick it up but her grip is strong. "They are not worth listening to...no one can help you..."

_Hey this is Kenny, I'm not here, probably getting laid. So, um...shh I'm trying to do this thing babe, yeah leave your name and a message and I'll get back to you when I can...oh that's nice...right there...BEEP!_

_Kenny! Kenny it's Kyle, you there! Come on pick up, my mom woke me up to tell me your dad was on the news! _

"Kyle!" I yell in surprise. Why the hell is he calling at this hour? "He won't help you..." Deirdre warned but I picked up the phone anyway. "Hello?" I answer before he hung up.  
"Kenny! God, I heard what happened to your dad! Are you okay? You sound like shyt!"  
"Kyle...I'm in really bad shape...I don't think I can do this..."  
"What are you talking about? Were you...were you crying! Oh God, what's going on?"  
"I'm giving up on everything...I'm done with this game, I'm out...they win..."  
"Kenny! No! Who's they! You're not thinking- NO! Don't do it Kenny, it's not worth it!"  
"Kyle, I'm tired, I need rest, and this is the best..."

Before he could object I hang up the phone and unplug the cord. I walk around in my bedroom to find my pocketknife under a pile of shyt. "That's good, Kenny, just slice your wrists and you'll be gone." I hear her voice echoing through the room. Her voice is so soft and harsh at the same time. Suddenly, I start coughing and I can't stop. I drop the knife with a clang.

Clyde appears and kicks the knife under the bed. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING KID!" he screams, "YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO KILL, NOT BE KILLED!" Deirdre pushes him away like an annoying dog and helps me up. "Leave him alone, Clyde, you had your little fun but now he wants rest..." she hissed.

Clyde suddenly leaps and locks his jaws on Deirdre's arm. He slices into her arm with his teeth and claws. She screams in pain and smashes him into the wall. He releases his grasp and goes for her leg. Deirdre is enveloped in a cloud of smoke and in seconds she's normal size. "YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" she screams. I don't think I ever hear her scream. She lunges for his throat as he throws her into the ground. It's rather amusing to watch figments fight amongst each other.

While they were fighting I try to find my knife. I finally find it and I keep it steady. Deirdre pushes Clyde off and flies to me. Clyde follows and floats over as well. "Yes, do it nice and deep." she says with a grin. She looks a bit too happy to be depressed. Clyde keeps on shouting but I tune him out. "Well...I guess it's the end..." I say with a sigh. I press the blade and I can feel it go in. Blood comes out and it mixes with the metal and my skin. I hold my breath, as I get ready to slice.

End of Chapter XII

HDM: haha cliff hanger! (;P)  
Readers: NOOOOOO! **:starts a mob: **GET HER!  
HDM: ahhhhhhh! **:runs away in complete terror:  
**Bianca: haha! **:starts eating Swedish fish:**

**Review da sooner da better da happy I getter and den I update faster**


	13. Knight in Rusted Armor

Chapter XIII

The Knight in Rusted Armor

HDM: got that from FG...hope that summary helped you out.  
Fishbone: **:suddenly appears: **I'M NEVER IN YOUR AUTHOR NOTES!  
HDM: YOU WERE GONNA BE IN CHAPTER 13 OF BLOOD RED ROSE  
Fishbone: really? O.O;;;;;;

BTW this is back to T again cuz i changed my mind and this is a long update because my one computer wouldn't load the story so I had to wait til I got to my dad's house (a week later) to upload it! .;;;; So...yeah you better give me uber good reviews for this!

* * *

I was pile-drive by an angel... 

The knife flew out of my hand and under my bed and now my head hurts. Suddenly the angel starts holding my wrist and starts to tie it up with an old shirt I own. "What are you doing?" I asked it. "Saving your sorry hide you asshole!" the angel yells. Funny, that voice sounds oddly familiar. "Kyle?" I ask. "No, the tooth fairy...of course it's me!" he screams. I try to move but he's sitting on my stomache. "You like being on top?" I laugh at my own joke. He punches me right in the left cheekbone. I still keep laughing.

"DON'T YOU _EVER _DO THAT AGAIN!" he screams. I look up at him. His eyes are blazing with anger and worry. He's wearing old jeans and a white t-shirt, probably what he wore to bed before charging off to rescue me. I look at my wrist and I can see the blood staining the shirt. Slowly, the depression is going away and I feel better. "Deirdre..." I mused aloud. "Who?" Kyle asks. 'She must of put some sort of depression kick into me when touching me...that's why I felt like shit...' I mused to myself this time. "Again, who is this Deirdre?" he asks.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you..." I muttered. "Try me..." he pressed his hands against my arms, pinning me to the ground. "You know this is very compromising..." I try to change the subject. His eyes narrow. "Last time..." he warned. I try to get away from those green eyes, they all are too pure...I want to gauge them out and never see them again. Tears roll down my face. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, NO ONE WILL!" I scream in his face. "KENNY GOD DAMNIT TELL ME!" he yells back.

_"SHE'S NOT REAL!"_

He takes a double take. "What?" he asks, like he didn't hear the first time. "THEY ARE NEVER REAL! ONLY I CAN SEE THEM!" I scream so harsh that my throat feels like it'll rupture. "Them? Wait, there's more than one?" he asks. I start squirming, I don't want to tell him anymore. He already knows too much. He gets off of me and I sit up. "Kenny, please, I want to help you, dude!" he pleads. I look at him and his scars. I don't want to get help, I just want to be left alone.

"Why did you do that?" I say pointing to his scars. He tries to cover them self consciously. "Hey, this isn't about me, okay?" he says defensively. He looks away from me and curses under his breath. "Kyle, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours..." I offered. I wiped away a stray tear and placed my elbows on my legs, propping myself up. He looks at me, trying to see if he can call a bluff. "I'm...on Zoloft right now..." he began. I blinked a couple of times. "You're depressed...since when?" I ask. "I guess beginning of freshman year...I never told anyone but my parents. They took me to a bunch of people, they didn't know the reason for it...I had no reason to be depressed..."

"So they just put you on medication..." I concluded. He nodded his head. "One day I forgot to take it and I was really messed up and I...did this..." he showed his arms, "I didn't want to but I felt I was being controlled..." He bites down on his lip, trying not to cry. "Stan found out the scars the next day and then saw the Zoloft in my school bag and added two and two together. I told him not to tell anyone...he wasn't meant to know..." he says in an apologetic manner. "I get it, Kyle, it's not something that you tell at lunch, I'm not jealous..." I say without hesitation.

"So, is Stan something, too?" I ask not meaning to be sarcastic. "Borderline and a Bipolar disorder but it's not that extreme..." Kyle says with a straight face. "Geez, it's like something is making us have a mental disease..." I muse aloud. "What about you, Kenny? It sounds like you're the worst of us all..." Kyle asks, also not trying to sound sarcastic. "I looked it up on the internet the other day, I think I have figments..." I began. "Whoa, you're a skitz? Is it just voices or...you can see them now?" Kyle asks in awe.

"Well, it was just voices but I thought it was just me. Then two things popped up and they almost control me and what my actions are. I don't think I do anything on my own anymore." I explained. He let out a yawn and propped himself against my wall. My eyes started to feel heavy, murder and failed suicide really takes a toll. His head rested on my shoulder as we both start to fall asleep. "Maybe we can get you a doctor..." he suggested softly. I didn't respond, I don't want to tell him that I don't want to be anywhere near a doctor...no one should know about this...I couldn't even tell _her..._now I can really feel sleep take hold.

**Dream Sequence!**

I am in an open field with no one around. I can almost smell the scent of outdoors. Then I can hear someone calling my name. I look to see my mother, beckoning me to come. I run to see her but I don't get any closer. I can see her smile and her dancing eyes, the way they used to look before all of this happened. Then, her skin fades into a gray pasty color and her hair turns into a dark rotted brown. Her eyes turn gray as she begins to rot away. I scream for her but I cannot reach. I see Kevin and he gives me a disgusting grin. He pushes me and I start falling.

I land near a lake...weird. I get up to look around and I see Reighlie right next to me in a beautiful red dress. She looks so lovely...it makes me crestfallen to think of her. I begin to tell her that I'm sorry for everything but she doesn't say a word. She gives me a smile and grazes her hand across my cheek. I touch her hand and I close in for a kiss. Our lips touch but her lips are deathly cold. I pull away to see now it's Kyle. He's soaking wet and it looks like he's crying. His lips are moving, like he's screaming, but it's like he's muted. I step closer but he looks like he wants me to stay away. I look and he has cuts on his face. Blood stains appear on my hands and I try to wipe it off but it stays. I start to cry blood, blood is all around me.

**End of Dream, obviously! **

I wake up with cold sweat trickling down my face. I wipe it away with my hand and let out a sigh of relief. What the fuck was up with that dream I'll never know. I will not let my imagination get the best of me now. I can feel Kyle's head now against my chest, he probably moved during the night. God, the things people would say about him if they ever found out...oh well. "Kyle..." I whisper. He stirs a bit but remains silent. "Kyle, it's time to get up..." I whispered in his ear. He moved a bit but didn't say a word. Then, a cell phone ringing the music of Mission Impossible starts going. "Answer that for me..." he asks in mid-slumber. I look to see that the name read Stan.

"Hey Stan..."

"Kenny? Where's Kyle?"

"Thanks for the hello...he's being lazy and not getting up..."

"Alright, can you guys meet me up at Stark's Pond around 12:30?"

"Sure, we'll meet you..."

I hung up the phone and I look to see he's still laying on my lap. "Kyle, you need to get up..." I told him. He let out a groan and rolled off of me. I swear, I think he acts gay and doesn't even know it. "You're an asshole..." he mumbled sleepily. "Yeah well deal with it..." I reply and I get up from the floor. I throw off my shirt and spay on some Axe. I look over to see he's finally moving. "You need to stop at your place before going to Stark's Pond?" I ask the red headed Jew. I throw on a clean shirt and my hoodie. He nods a yes and stands up slowly. He's definetly not a morning person. I look to find my shoes and I grab my cigarettes and lighter. I lead us down the stairs where I see Mother sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Where you going?" she demanded. "Out..." I replied as I walked out the door. I don't feel like dealing with her now. I light up a cancer stick and breathe it all in. "You want one?" I ask Kyle. He shook his head and continued to walk. "I can't believe you ran out with no coat...are you fucking insane?" I asked him. He gives me a grin. "Not as insane as you my friend..." he replied. I rolled my eyes as we walked toward his house. He doesn't know how right he is...even though I know he's kidding.

I waited outside for only ten minutes before he came out of his house. He got on some clean clothes and a jacket. We head up toward Stark's Pond, which isn't that far of a walk. I wish I could afford a car, maybe then I could get out of this dump. To get far away from this town would make me a happy boy...but I'm never happy.

What would happen if he came a second later? What would happen if I passed on over? I would probably join my father in hell just to be spiteful...everyone knows that any deity is a spiteful prick. I never felt so much anger and sorrow in my life, it was like it hit me like a truck. I wanted to stop but I couldn't control my inner wishes. The kill was sadistically fun...but the aftershock was so overwhelming. I wonder if I ever did that again, will I feel the aftershock? No, I'm not going to kill anymore...I don't want to stain my hands again.

Living in a town of sinners, it's hard to find an angel amongst the demons. When one comes along your way, you should treasure him or her and never let them go. I had one thrown at me and I let her fly away. I gave her the wings to fly away from me...so she could save herself. I don't want her to get sucked into the Bleeding...no not her. At least, maybe one good thing can be saved from me, even if that means I cannot be happy. As for him, he's literally swimming in It. I tried to take him out of It, and yet I watch him drown. I want to save him but I don't want to be lonely. I want to keep him because he's like me...he's not as pure as her. Maybe we can Bleed together...

We end up beating Stan to Stark's so we sit under a bare tree until we await our third Stooge. Kyle looks around and lets out a small laugh. "What's so funny?" I ask him out of curiosity. "Life..." he responded with a dreamy look. I cock my head in confusion. "Look at it, Kenny...can you not feel a bit happy when you see the sun rise? Does the smell of something baked tickle you in a special way. Does it not blow your mind when you see nature in all its glory and it makes you feel so...great..." he lets out a sigh. "God, you're a depressed optimist..." I state cynically. "Why...what do you see, Kenny?" he asks. "I feel happy when the sun sets...because the day is finally done. I can only smell gasoline and cigarettes...and nature has an ugly side that I cannot turn away..."

He turns to me and gives me a forced grin. "I think that way a lot...but I try not to...because I don't want to focus on the bad and maybe if I focus on the little good things in life...it makes it worthwhile..." I look at him...can his philosophy really work? It sounds so childish...the optimism of a child cannot be capable of understanding this cynical and cold adult world. It makes me sick that he thinks there's good when he sees the ugly right in front of his face. Does he not see it or does he look around it? Kyle shakes his head and lets out another laugh. "Optimisim is what we believed in when we're young...Pessimism is what we grow into as we grow old..." he mused aloud. I nodded my head in accord.

Stan starts walking toward us with a small smile. I stand up and he pulls me into a friendly straight hug. "Dude, you alright?" he asked with concern. I gave him a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine..." I lie to the black haired angel. Kyle gets up as well. "Kyle, what the hell were you thinking?" he asks him. Kyle just shrugs and gives him that innocent smile. I swear, Stan acts like the parent and Kyle acts like the child. Stan is cold and harsh...Kyle is naive and foolish...and I'm full of apathy. Stan sees the facts and doesn't run with his emotions...Kyle sees beyond facts and is overzealous when it comes to his emotions...I don't want feelings at all...

"Kenny?" Stan's voice broke my train of thought. "Hm?" I responded stupidly. "Um, I was wondering if you want to head over to the arcade, maybe play pool?" I nod my head and we start to walk. We cross a street and make our way to the arcade. We pass by a house with a moving van parked in the front. "Oh god...it's today..." I mused aloud. "What's today, Kenny?" Kyle asks. I don't answer him, I don't even remember if I heard it clear. I start walking toward the house and I pass the movers. "Reigh!" I yell but no responce. "You lookin' for da goyle?" I hear behind me. It was one of the movers, I couldn't really catch the accent. "She's in da livin' room..." he adds as he picks up a dresser. I walk inside without hesitation. Stan and Kyle stay outside and watch.

I see her...

She looks up at me but doesn't move. She's sitting on her steps, smoking the last of her cigarettes. "I'm...sorry...about last night..." I explain. I don't care if she never forgives me or if she thinks I'm lying...I don't want any bad feelings between us. I want her to know that I do care...so maybe she won't block me out of her head forever. She snuffs out the butt and walks toward me. She looks into my eyes...those green eyes. They're watery but I can tell she will not cry...she'll be strong in front of me...no weakness. She parts her lips, as if she wants to say something but cannot get it out. She puts something in my hand and then walks away. I try to call her back but she walks faster. I look at the object, it's a folded piece of paper. I open it up to see it's a poem. It was titled My Choice.

My Choice

I thought I knew enough...  
To make my own choices...  
To do the things I felt was right  
But then I met you

You flipped my world around  
You made black into white  
And night into day  
You've even flipped my heart

I fell for you...  
When I told myself "no"  
"He will hurt you" I said over again  
But I didn't listen

You may hurt me  
You could leave me  
But I would never think  
You would ever cry for me

Now that I leave today  
I will always wonder...  
On that cold night  
Did you even shed a tear?

_"I CRIED!" I screamed...but I don't think she heard me..

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_

End of Chapter XIII

HDM: To FG, I did spell Tweek right, it was his first name I used...his full name is Tweek Tweak. (I'm still eating those cookies, they are soooo good!) It was shorter than expected but I'm really tired of looking at this...yeah review and tell me what you think. Email me for any other reason or if you're bored and want to talk to a complete and utter fool.

By the way, I'm working on another south park fanfiction, I will post in a couple of weeks, hopefully this will be wrapped up in my head so I know where this will lead so that I won't feel too overwhelmed...


	14. Lick the Bones Clean

Chapter Fourteen

Lick the Bones Clean

HDM: yum, this title makes me think of Buffalo Wings mmmmmm yummie! To FG, the last chapter title came from your review when you said Kyle would be the knight in shining armor...I just changed it to rusted because he's flawed...and I can't believe I've explained a title of a chapter O.O;;;;;;; To Leela's Tears, that is a HDM original poem, thank you for the compliment! XD

Yeah this is to the point I can only update every two weeks because my mom's AOL on is retarded... document manager only works on my dad's...and I can't post my new story because the accept the guidelines is being retarded...everything is retarded -.-

A week has passed from the whole incident and everything seems to be getting back to normal. At first a lot of kids at school were pitiful about what happened but that soon ceased. Some of the teachers let me not do some homework because of it but I didn't accept. I won't take their pity since I was the murderer. I was thinking of maybe the thought of murder would pass...maybe that it won't stay locked onto my inner conscious...although that is pretty damn small.

I walk into English and sat behind Stan in the third row, fourth seat. Eric and Kyle are in the first row in the second and third seat so we can't communicate unless we're in group projects. The teacher, Ms. Mooney, came in almost missing the bell. She's a new teacher here but man does she shine light on this school. She's one of the few teachers I have that's twenty-three and hot. "Okay class, I'm going to ask you all to come up and share your poems." she explained with a slight exasperation in her voice. She pushed back the assignment because a lot of kids didn't get it, go figure. We all went through our book bags for our books. "Now, who's first?" she asked.

The majority of the poems sucked major ass. Girls mostly wrote about their boyfriends and friends and boys mostly wrote about football or some other sport. Eric, I won't even retell his poem it was so ungodly. I hear my name being called up. Shit, I thought I would be last...then again she's not going in no paticular order. When I came up, she gave me a smile of encouragement, I guess. "So, Kenny, what do you have to share with us?" I shuffled in my place for a bit behind the podium. "Um, I want you to decide..." I replied. She nodded and sat back on her desk, her eyes locked onto me like a lioness after her antelope dinner. I gulped and took a breath.

"It's called...Masks Cannot Heal..."

Porcelain masks of different emotions  
Never leaving without one  
Your face is never shown  
Only the mask...

Mirrors everywhere  
But your image isn't there  
So many manifestations  
But not the true face

So many windows open  
The one to your true nature  
Shut tight with nails  
No one will see

Crack the clown masks  
Break those accursed mirrors  
Let open that nailed windowOr else you'll die unknown

You'll be washed away  
You cannot swim  
All the while no one will help  
Because they don't know you

The room was silent. Everyone had this gawking look, their eyes are fixated on me. I let out a cough to break the silence and Ms. Mooney started to clap. The rest of the class also applauded me and I felt my cheeks get red. "Now, class, what is the meaning and what is the theme of Kenny's poem?" she asked the room. None of the kids dared to raise their hand. Kyle slowly raised it and she nodded. "It's about not letting anyone see your true self. Whether to hide or not to upset anyone, you hide behind a mask. The end tells us to get rid of the masks because people can't help you if you don't let them in..." he explained. A lot of 'oh yeah' came out of anonymous mouths. "Now, the theme...I think it's Inner Self..." he said in a hesitant manner. I stiffin a bit and about thirty pairs of eyes fixated on me.

Thank you God for the bell...

I almost ran to my locker, I didn't want to talk to anyone about my stupid poem or about the stupid meaning or the stupid inner self. I got to my locker and took out my key to open it. I open it to see all of my stupid shit on the door. There's pictures of girls I've dated long ago and a picture of the guys. There's one picture that I got a little sentimental about...it was the one of Reighlie and Kyle together. It was a couple years ago...she gave it to me because she didn't have any of hers that were more recent. I slam my locker and bang my head several times against the metal. I pounded my fists si hard you would think I dented the sucker.

I felt someone touch my shoulder and I jumped out of my skin. It was Kyle and he jumped back too. "Um, ready for lunch?" he muttered softly. I nodded my head and we headed for the cafeteria. "Um, I'm sorry if I got you upset..." he mumbled. I shook my head. "It's alright Kyle, you were right...don't be sorry about being right..." I told him. "Do you wear a lot of masks?" he asked in a hushed tone. I was a lost of words. Kyle blushes a bit out of embarrassment and shuts up. "Kyle, are you okay?" I ask the red headed Jew, "You seem...off." He looks up at me; poor kid, he only grew to be five six when I'm now five ten and still growing. He looks like a frightened puppy who lost his way. "You know my meds?" he asked. I nodded.

"I ran out yesterday..."

I blink a couple of times. Shit, I heard what happened the last time he didn't take his meds. He slouches a bit and we walk a bit quicker to the cafeteria. We saw Stan at our table and we could see Cartman in the line. I give Stan a 'we-need-to-talk' look and he quickly gets up. Kyle obviously ignored it because he went into the lunch line. Stan and I walk down to the vending machines to talk. "What's up Kenny?" he asked me. I look around to see anyone eaves dropping. "Kyle doesn't have any meds..." I whisper in his ear. Stan's pupil dilated and then contracted in fear. "Why the fuck does he not?" he whispered harshly. "He said he ran out yesterday and he must have forgot to remind his parents..." I guessed. Stan curserd under his breath and we started back toward the table but not before I get a soda.

"We need to watch him..." Stan concluded as we walk. I decide not to talk and just nod. I'll let Stan formulate the plan, he's better at these things than I could ever be. "We can go to his house and tell his mom and dad about the pills." I say without thinking about it. "That's a good idea! We could watch him." Stan says with a grin. We get back to the table and Cartman is already ripping into Kyle's ego. Shit, that's not a good thing...Cartman doesn't know about his depression and Kyle wants to keep it that way. "You fucking Jew, why don't you retaliate, huh? Are you being a bigger pussy than usual? Answer me!" Cartman sneers at the red head. Kyle just stares down at his fries and keeps silent.

"Cartman, lay off on the insults..." Stan warned him. "Why should I goth? He always breaks my balls, why can't I?" Cartman replied crudely. "Today is different fat shit so lay off..." I warned him as well. "Fuck you guys, I don't listen to nobody!" he retaliated with poor grammer to boot. "Kyle you flaming Jew! Why won't you say something? You're such a cheap ass son of a bitch!" Kyle looks over at him and sneers. "Go back to your tart of a mom you obese sack of shit..." he hissed. "Aye! You don't call me fat or my mom a whore you basterd!" Cartman replied. "I call it as I see it, you bumblefuck. Now leave me alone and choke on your lunch." Kyle sneered. Cartman was about to reply but Stan gave him a look. "Screw you guys!" he yelled and stormed away.

I thought the day couldn't crawl any slower but alas...it did. Kyle luckily had either Stan or me in his class to keep our eyes on him. He didn't do much but write in this little spiral notepad. I thought, at first, he was going to jam the pen into his wrist because he got frustrated about something...but he didn't. The bell rang and the class flooded out the doors but me and Kyle waited a bit. He gives me a sad smile. I wonder if he's always been like this but I just never saw it. Maybe he was like this even before he was diagnosed, maybe he has it because no one really does pay attention to him.

It's not just us, though. His parents never really give him the attention he needed or wanted. Ike was an attention grabber for the sheer fact he's the younger sibling. I think he secretly took all the attention he could on purpose. Either case, he doesn't even get noticed at the home or really with us. We just assume he's fine, just like I've done with Stan. I do sound selfish but I never really notice anyone...especially since the figments.

I stepped out on seventh period for a smoke and Kyle followed two minutes later (this was not a coincidence just to let you know) and we took a drag out of the cancer sticks. "Lovely day..." he mused. "Cold and sleet is lovely?" I asked him sarcastically. He gives me a small smile and nods. "Well...so much for optimisim..." I mused aloud. "I wish I didn't have to take pills to stay happy..." Kyle sighs. I look at him and cock my head. "Sometimes these things happen to good people..." I say to him.

Aren't we all?

The car ride wasn't the...happiest of conversations. I blame myself...I'm a cynic at heart. We leave school and Kyle and I hop inside Stan's car and he starts up the engine. God, he's lucky...sixteen and he has a car already. My birthday is coming up soon but the closest I will come to a car is a wind up toy. Wendy was in the passenger seat so Kyle and I just went in the back seat. She gave Stan a kiss, which made us gag, and he started up. "So how are you, Kyle?" she chirped in a fake sentimental tone. "Lousy..." Kyle replied sourly. She gave him a frown and look over at me. "What about you, Kenny?" she asked. "What is about asking people how they are? Does it make the asker feel a bit better about themselves?" I scowled.

Kyle gave me a sly smirk, telling me that he agrees what I said. Wendy let out a 'hmph' as we drive on. Wendy's house is opposite way of Kyle so it'll take us ten minutes tops. Kyle looks out the window and stared. "Is it the same beautiful sight?" I ask him. "There isn't anything beautiful about a mirage..." he mused aloud. "You guys are such a downer!" Wendy snapped, "Don't you guys have anything to say nice about anything?" I let out a cruel laugh. "Kyle's the optimist of the group..." I sneer, "Anything nice? Babe, there's no such thing as:_ love at first sight, Santa Claus and any other child figment, peace is a joke, and there's **no** happy endings_!"

She was happy to get out of that car...

We get to Kyle's house and his parents aren't home. He told us before that they come home late. Ike is in the living room watching television. We walk past him and go upstairs to Kyle's room. He has a couple of neat things in here. His computer is on blinking. It was saying **NEW EMAIL **on the upper left corner. He has AIM so it flashes a couple of times unless you click it. Stan sits at the computer and Kyle and me sit on his bed. "I don't know why you guys came, I'm not going to do anything..." Kyle scowls. "Yeah right, last time you didn't have meds you carved up your arms like a Thanksgiving turkey!" Stan replied.

We hear the polographic ring of B.Y.O.B. coming from Stan's schoolbag. Stan walks over and answers it. "Hello? Oh, hey Mom, what's up? Uh huh...oh...fine I'll be home...goodbye..." He hung up the phone and threw it in his bag. "I gotta go, apparently Shelly is coming home and I need to straighten up the house...I guess I'll see you guys..." he explained. We nodded our heads and look at the time. It's three ten now so we have a couple hours before Kyle's parents came. "See ya Stan, don't do anything stupid..." Kyle replied. "I should say the same for you my friend. Kenny, watch him..." Stan instructed. "What am I gonna do, sleep on the job?" I scowled. He let out a left and headed out the door.

For a couple minutes it was awkward silence. We were in his room with no supervision...normally I would take advantage of this situation like any other person I was attracted to...but I never had someone who was a basketcase. Kyle goes to the computer and checks his email. "I'll be right back...I need to use the bathroom..." I excuse myself. What can he do in his room? "Okay...you know where he is..." he said monotoneously. I walk into the bathroom and take a drink of water from the sink. I splash some water against my face. I want him so bad, but I don't want to use him. He's better than that...they are all better than that.

I hear a crash coming from his room and I bolt in...before I ran in I heard something hit the door. I can hear him screaming. I open the door and I see it was a lamp. He on the floor slumped down and it appears he was crying, not screaming. "I walk out for a minute and you're breaking shit?" I ask him. He looks at me apologetically...why does he do that to me? "I'm sorry...I don't know why..." he tried to explain. I pull him up onto his bed. It looks like he only sliced open his index finger trying to pick up the pieces...not a big deal, right?

I look around his room and I see a couple of empty bottles of Smirnoff behind his door. "Having a party without me?" I ask him. He let out a laugh...it was sad laugh. "You want some?" he asked me. I didn't answer him, where did he get the alchohol? He pulled out a shoebox and pulled out a 40 oz of Smirnoff Rasberry. He took another one and twisted off the cap. "Cheers..." he said in a meloncholy tone and took a swig.

About a half hour later we were giddy as schoolgirls...laughing about god-knows-what. We finished off all the remaining bottles and I feel great. Limitations have been erased, common courtesy is unknown. Stupidy and lust overcomes me more and more I look at the beautiful Jew. "Do you straighten your hair?" I ask him while playing with a lock. "I got it straightened from some kit...it works pretty good..." he replied and then let out a laugh. I lay down and he walks around his room, like he never been in here before. "Come here..." I asked him. "Okay!" he replied laughing. He jumps on top of me and I gasp for air. "What the hell?" I yell. He give me a melting smile. "Sorry..." he apologizes.

I look up and I give him a grin. I place my hands on the side of his thighs. I stroke his legs with my thumbs...also to tease the shit out of him to boot. As I said before, I think he turns gay by the power of alcohol...I'm not complaining. He leans in closer where our noses nearly touch. His breath is beating against my neck. Urges of close ripping rush threw me. He strokes under my chin where a stubble of facial hair is growing. Space ceased when I went in for the kiss. His lips are soft against my own. He pressed harder against my own to make more passionate. I ran my tongue along his own and I whipped in and out of his mouth like a snake. He moans inside my mouth as I press harder.

A sequence of passionate kisses and cute pecks follows until I get restless. I flip him so he's on bottom. No offense but I will be the dominant one in this relationship. I start sucking on his neck, getting moans and gasps from my partner. "Ke- nny..." he moans, "Harder..." he asks. I obey his wish and I bite his neck harder. He grabs my back and digs in a bit. I start kissing his collarbone and he let out a orgasmic moan. I start taking off my shirt and he does the same. He looks even more perfect. We start kissing again with more passion. I massage his sides and run my hands down toward his jeans. I play with the belt as I'm kissing him, multi-tasking can save time.

He looks up at me, not knowing if this is right or not. I stop playing with the belt and stared at him. Maybe he's still right in the head and doesn't want to rush...or rather do it at all. He looks up at me with those eyes...those verte eyes. They're so...defiled...nothing like the others...these don't have a limit. "If you're not ready...I will understand..." I tell him softly. He let out a sigh and shook his head. Then, he starts unzipping my pants.

**End of Chapter XIV**

HDM: Short chapter but I don't feel like writing anymore. All you dirty little girls will have to deal with that...I'm not doing a lemon and even if I did I'm not describing...you can just imagine it in your little heads. So, yeah um...reviews or else! grr!


	15. Qualik

Chapter XV

Qualik

HDM: so, I'm taking it that some of you like the new story and some aren't reviewing...you make me mad...for that I will not give a happy ending! Muahaha! I have total power! **:gets a note: **Oh, I was gonna do it anyway but now you're asking for it! muahahahaha! soooo much power! Forgive me it's 12:30 I'm writing this and I'm working off rage!

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**A week later...Dream Time! whoop!**

_I am in an empty white washed room with no windows or a door to be seen. There's no one around except for myself...I feel almost deserted. I shout continuously 'Is anybody here?' for a while but no one replied. _

_Then, I hear someone whimpering. I look to see a small child in a corner. I walk over the child; the little kid looks like a boy but I can't see his face. "Are you alright?" I ask the stranger. I gently move the child so I can see its face. I jump back out of fear and out of instinct. What the flying fuck is wrong with this kid!_

_The kid's eyes were gouged out and the sides of his mouth are crudely sliced and stitched. Worms and maggots feast in the caverns of his hollow eyes. "Don't feed it..." the boy rasps. "Wh-what?" I stutter. The grotesque child coughs up maggots and blood. "You'll end up like...**me**" he gasps for more air but keeps choking on the worms. _

_"Who is this It and how did you end up like this?" I question the boy, "Answer me! What's going to happen to me if I don't stop?" _

**End of Dream, Phew!**

I spring out of bed and gasp for air. I can feel cold and clammy sweat rolling down my face and chest. What the fuck was that? I don't think I want to sleep anymore. Is that some sort of...sign? No, it can't be...it was just a dream...a really fucked up dream. I look to see that it's seven thirty. Shit, I'm going to be late. I spray some Axe and throw on a shirt and ripped up jeans. I slip on my shoes and look in the mirror.

I rub my face and feel rough stubble of facial hair growing. Screw it I don't have time to shave. I take my brush and flip out my hair and quickly brush through it. Even though I cut it a couple weeks back it's still a little past my shoulders. I take a hair-tie and pull my hair into a messy ponytail. I run downstairs and look to see no one around. I get my hoodie and schoolbag and sprint out the door. I start half walking and half running to school. The bus stop isn't far from here... although both Stan and Kyle can drive they don't get to use their parents' cars unless it's the weekend.

"Kenny?" I hear a shout from behind me. I look to see Kyle from his window. "Dude, what are you doing?" he asks me. "Going to school?" I reply to the Jew. Why isn't he ready? "Dude, it's Saturday!" he says laughing. I can feel my cheeks redden...how can I be so stupid! "Hold on, we'll go for breakfast..." he shouts before disappearing.

He walks out of his house with that smart ass grin across his face. I throw my bag at him but he catches it with one hand. He throws it into his dad's car and I relunctently get into the car. He starts the engine and he zooms out into the street. Damn, I wish I can be sixteen and get to drive...I gotta wait a month or so. I look at him and give him a smile. He keeps his eyes on the road as we continue to the diner. He parks the car near the front of the building and we get out simultaneously. He opens the door and holds it out for me and I follow.

"So, is everything good?" I ask, trying to break the silence. He glances over for a second and nods. He knows what happened that night; that drunken stupor didn't completely block out the memory. I don't think that he's totally forgiven me for that. Then again, he wouldn't be taking me to breakfast if he totally hated me. Well, I'll milk it for all its worth.

We arrive at the diner at exactly nine o'clock for we're in time for the breakfast special. We both slide in opposite booths as the waitress gives us menus. "Um, I'll just have water...what do you want Kenny?" Kyle asks me. I look up at the waitress and give her a smirk. "Just coffee..." I say to her. She gives me a smile as she walks away from us. Kyle gives me a look but I ignore him. Man, she has a tight ass. "Kenny!" Kyle hisses, "Can you stop gawking at someone's ass for less than a minute?"

"You're just mad 'cause I'm not looking at yours..." I reply with a grin. His cheeks redden a bit but he regains his composer. He brushes back his scarlet hair and gives me a look with those dazzling green eyes. "You wish..." he mutters coldly. He gives me a small smirk that he picked up from me obviously. I would like to just shove my tongue down his kosher mouth and defile any other pure quality that still latches onto the poor boy for dear life.

"I want you to stop this Kenny...I don't think this is right for us..." Kyle says to me. I do a double take; am I listening correctly? "Kyle, what the fuck? Why are you quitting us before we barely begun?" I asked the Jew.

"What we? We fucked under the influence of alcohol and you call that _we_? Screw that Kenny, I'm not being used for your little piece of ass."

"Kyle, it's not like that at all...I'm not using you for sex sakes. I really want something--"

"You used me when I was mentally unstable! You're so fucking selfish!"

The waitress broke our 'discussion' with our drinks. "Um, you guys ready?" she asks with a hint of confusion. Kyle looks at her and regains some control. "Yeah, I'll have the number one. I want my eggs over medium with Jewish rye bread. I'll take an orange juice..." Kyle says monotonously. She looks at me, awaiting my order. "A number seven, I'll have bacon on the side and my drink will be tomato juice..." I robotically reply. She takes away our menus and we're left alone once again.

"Kyle, I'm sorry about it...I really am...but I just need someone to be there for me. Reighlie couldn't be there for me _for reasons unknown_ but you were...and still are there for me!" I plead with the scarlet red head. His eyes soften a bit and he starts to lose his hash exterior. I give him a small and pleading smile. "God you're so pathetic..." Kyle scowls but gives me a smile. The waitress gives us our food but doesn't say anything. We ate our food quickly and got out around ten o'clock.

We get in the car and Kyle starts up the engine. He drives us back to his house but we don't immediately get out of the car.

"You want to come in?" Kyle asks me

"Wouldn't your parents say something? They really don't care for me..."

"Father is at the law office and Mother is doing errands with Ike. They won't be back till around four."

I fidget in my seat a bit and look out the window. No one in his or her right mind would be out this early. I guess it won't do anyone harm if I stay with him for a couple hours. "Okay, I'll come in..." I agree with the Jew. We get out of his car and we go into the house. It's an odd yet soothing smell of scented candles. I take off my hoodie and hang it up on the coat rack. It creaks a delayed whine, indicating it's rather old. Kyle disappears into the kitchen so I sit myself on the sofa and flip through the channels.

Kyle comes in with some coffee mugs in each hand and sets it on the coffee table. "It's fucking freezing out there, dude..." Kyle says while sipping his drink. I give him a nod while watching the show Stella on Comedy Central. Kyle starts laughing at the screen along with me. I look over at him and he does likewise. I move closer to him; space is so little between us. I move in for the kiss. Our lips are touching so gently. I press harder against his lips, trying to persuade him to kiss back. I feel him press as well, a little bit of me is relieved that he is.

I move my hands onto his hips and he laces his hands around my neck, pushing me closer toward him. I start slipping in my tongue into his mouth, whipping and out of his mouth with quick motions. Our tongues wrap around one another like an exotic dance. He breaks the kiss and for a moment we take a breath. I feel him slide downward onto the couch and he pulls me on top. I can feel his chest rise and sink with every breath. I can hear his heartbeat bang rapidly against his chest. I look down at him, his eyes are dancing with excitement or confusion, either way they're alluring.

I take a piece of his scarlet rouge hair and place it away from his face. He smiles, showing his pearly whites, and his eyes twinkle a bit. "You're truly amazing..." I speak softly in his ear. His smile grows and so does my own. "Either I'm a hopeless romantic or that's one of the sweetest things you've said to me..." he replies. I let out a small laugh. I kiss him lightly on his lips and I start kissing his neck. He lets out a gasp of satisfaction and pleasure. He grips my back as I continue to suck on his peachy flesh. I nip and bite at his neck with expertise.

"Let's continue this upstairs..." Kyle suggested as I'm still sucking. I immediately stop and look at him. "If you wish..." I reply as I climb off of him. I help him up and he leads us into his bedroom. It's neat and tidy like always but the liquor has disappeared. "Hope you don't mind the lack of beverage, I haven't been to the store..." he explains to me. I let out an "oh" as I close the door.

What remains behind close doors will not be your concern...for all you know we've only played checkers...heh I'm funny...

It's maybe noon or one or something along them lines. Kyle's asleep next to me and I'm slowly dozing off. I can feel the Sandman slip in more and more because every second my lids get heavier. Kyle shifts a bit and throws his arm across my torso. I shift him closer against me so I can feel his warmth. He nuzzles against my neck and his breath becomes slow and steady. I close my eyes and I relinquish myself into a slumber.

**Dream Time again! AHH!**

_"Kenny..." I hear whispering in my ear. "Yeah?" I respond to the voice as if it's a close friend of mine. "Where's your little buddy Clyde? Wasn'the doing a good job?" it asks me. _

_"Doing what? Making me insane?"_

_"Well that is what I senthim to do...it'shis job after all..."_

_"What! You **SENT**him to screw with me!"_

_Billowing black clouds starts forming right in front of me. Out of the ground shoots out this figure. It's neither man nor woman by the mere height of this thing. "Hello Kenny..." the thing spoke. The black clouds disappear as this creature becomes clear. "What are you?" I ask it. "My name is Qualik; I am the master of the figments...I am Insanity."_

_Qualik is something from a science fiction novel mixed with a creature Jhonen Vasquez would dare create. It towers me, it could be ten...maybe twelve feet high but the width of a normal teenage boy. Its head is round and white like a baseball without stitches. It does not have a right eye; there's a big red 'X' replacing it. Its mouth has stitches in its looks like its been stretched out. You can see all its teeth and they look like twisted metals instead of regular teeth. It has a mohawk that's a bright cerulean blue._

_Its skin other than the face is a pasty gray with some periwinkle blue here and there. It has two pairs of horns on its lower neck and what looks like its lower chest. It has three long fingers and a hookish thumb along with long skinny arms. It wears a black T-shirt with a ripped up sleeves and collar. There's two pieces of a heart that looks runny. This half of it looks like a deranged version of a teenage guy. The bottom half looks like a dress it draped around his legs but it's far from it. Dark red liquid oozes down from the bottom half and it looks like it melts into the earth._

_"I thought insanity was a mental thing..." I say to the creature. It lets out a cackle. "That's what everyone thinks, do you really think that Insanity is just something that's not planned!" it replies, "You are just the lucky few who actually gets to see me in person." I wonder how many others would say about a thing like Qualik. Right now it's something equally frightening and disturbing that no one should ever get the discomfort of seeing. _

_"Were there others before you?" I ask the creature. "Oh yes, many and many Insanity Masters have been before me, I'm actually pretty new at this...I'm only in the Adolescent version of my evolution as Insanity." it explains. _

_"How do you...er evolve?"_

_"On how many hosts you take in your history."_

_"How many do you have now?"_

_It gives me a wickedly chilling grin. "Not counting you, six hundred and sixty five..." it coldly replies. My eyes widen. "I'm six-six-six?" I ask the beast. "Yep! You're a host that every Insanity master treasures most. It usually happens that the 666 is something very infamous and notorious in your human society." _

_"How so?"_

_"You know Hitler?"_

_"Yeah, he's the basterd that killed all those people..."_

_"He was my brother's 666..."_

_Then these groups of kids started coming out of nowhere. One girl had no lower jaw; one boy's eyes were sliced through the eyeball. One girl's eyelids were stitched shut and her lips are sewn up. One poor fellow's brain is exposed with the skin covering his face. "What the fuck is wrong with these kids!" I scream at Qualik. It laughs cruelly, again showing its teeth. It picks up on of the kids...it was the boy from my previous dream._

_"These are souls, Kenny. They look like this when they're Bleeding me. When you're 'insane' your soul deteriorates like this into something foul and disgusting. This soul is the man Clyde showed you weeks ago." Qualik explains in the cruelest way. I think I want to throw up. _

_"I don't want you anywhere near me! Get the fuck away from me!" I scream at Qualik. It laughs some more. "You're already sucked in Kenny, you can't stop me now!" it cackles. Suddenly a new child appears in its claws. It looks like me when I was eight years old. He starts to whimper and squirm in its grasp. "No!" I yell, "Don't hurt him!" My soul starts talking but the hoodie makes him mumble just like when I was eight. His eyes start to cry red._

_"NOOOOOO!"_

**END OF DREAM! YAY! **

Also End of Chapter XV

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HDM: Okay, two more chapters to go! Sorry for the long wait, the one reason I was down the shore for a week, the second is that school started and I needed to do some work, and third…I had a minor writers block for my other stories and it held up this one. I hope you like it, I worked really hard on it. Pictures will be posted this weekend and it'll be about Insanity Bleeds or Burning Butterflies so check them out and tell me about them in your reviews. Okay, I need a break, my brain is hurting! 


	16. Trickling Blood

Chapter XVI

Trickling Blood

HDM: almost done, thank you all for the reviews, I must say FG, you are number one on my favoritism list. (Don't worry about BB, you'll get some slashy goodness XP) As for the rest of you, thank you all for reviewing.

Today (Oct. 1st) is my sweet 16 so yeah I decided to write this...even though I'm not too thrilled about it. I know one of my friend's uncle's funeral is tomorrow and so I'm giving my regards in spirit because I cannot make the funeral...and that's may be the reason I feel so lousy.

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Everyone has a spark of madness...the question remains will you use it or not?

I can't recall when I left Kyle's house but I do know I didn't use the door...

When I got to my room I found that I had twigs and leaves in my hair and lots of fresh soot all over my jacket. I took it off and threw it against the door. I look around my room and I cannot see any figment or Qualik or whatever that's living in my brain. I collapse on my bed and stare at my ceiling. My brain feels so numb and the blood has ceased to flow to my fingertips. If I was an insomniac, maybe the figments will leave me alone. I just want to be left...alone.

Why did I have to be this psycho's toy of amusement? I wanted a normal life...well as normal as I can get. Killing and insanity is not what I wanted to accomplish in life...maybe just passing high school. Then again, I don't even know what I was to be when I was older. Probably doomed to say 'Would you like fries with that?' and never getting far in this life.

Actually, when I think about it...Insanity is just another excuse for me...since I really didn't have a chance in this world and my suicides will always be stopped by people 'who care about my well being'. God...maybe I shouldn't even bother...

"Funny, you look almost innocent..."

I spring up to see Deirdre in her human form leaning against my dresser. "Leave me alone...haven't you caused enough insanity for one day?" I spat at the figment. She let out a sigh and hops off the bureau and comes towards me. "Why did you let me be subjected to that..._monster?_" I ask her. She just shook her head. "This is why I wanted you to commit suicide, so Qualik couldn't get to you..." she mutters in response.

"Wait, you're not with Qualik?"

"Any 'suicidal' figments are against the head chief of Insanity..."

"Why?"

"Insanity can only grasp the living; it cannot take hold of you when you're dead. Now, figments that promote death isn't something Insanity really appreciates." She sits down on the bed next to me and gives me a smile. For a figment, she is very pretty. "So, that's why you and Clyde were always fighting?" I ask the woman. She nods and pushes a piece of hair behind her perked ears.

"Kenny, if there wasn't a major reason you needed to pass on I wouldn't press the matter. Yes, some of us don't care who lives or who dies but they're new and sophomoric...older figments know the difference between wannabe cutters and the truly damned. Figments push what is hidden within a person...they do not create or destroy emotions already embedded...they just feast upon the emotions to get stronger. You seem like a good kid...behind all the drugs, beer, and sex...and I wish that you would make it in this life...if you weren't branded."

"I have a couple questions..." I begin, "Why was it that I always died when I was a child? I mean, the first several times was funny but after awhile it got pretty dull. Do you know?" I ask the figment. She nodded and took in a breath.

"Yes, see...you were branded insane when you were born. Normally, Insanity waits till their victom is grown and has lost their innocence. Qualik wanted to strip it from you early because you were very special...the whole 6-6-6 thing. He made a deal with a devil...literally. If Satan lets you die and resurrect, Qualik will steer his victims to a path of evil so they'll go to hell...it's a win/win situation. Normally Satan doesn't control souls dying...he doesn't want to dirty his hands with that kind of work but he always wants more souls to torture."

Wow, I didn't think I was that important to be pawned over. I look at a photo that's on my nightstand. It was a picture with my friends...but I'm not in it. See, I spontaneously combusted and my ashes are near Cartman's ass. All those deaths...were because a twisted tangible Insanity decided to rid me of innocence. Well, he did succeed in that retrospect. I would think that there is a reason behind everything...even if it is supernatural.

"Another questions, I thought people created figments?" I asked her. "Originally, yes...people did create figments and some still do create figments. But when the person either dies or represses the figment...they don't just go away. They go to another host and the cycle begins again. Think of it as recycling..." she explains.

"Oh...so I got second hand figments?" I gave her a smart ass grin. Her eyes narrow and let out a hmph. "I'm not second hand, I'm better than half of these new figments running around...there's a couple that look like Pillsbury dough boys, got it from a comic or something along those lines. God, people have no imagination..." she rants. I roll my eyes and give her a smirk. "Hey, don't give me that look...I was not based off of anything...I'm older than you times fifty so don't give me that look..."

I pick my head up and look at the ceiling once more. "Can you tell me how to beat this Qualik?" I ask her. She gives me this look...it wasn't a pleasant look. "You can't beat Insanity...only in death can you be rid of it..." she replies. I could feel my heart sink even further down to the pit of my stomach.  
"What about doctors or medications or institutions? Can't they help me?" I ask her. She shakes her head. "They only mask it...and usually they don't know what you have."

I can feel my breath become shallower. I want to exit from this nightmare. "What about Kyle...is he effected? Tell me!" I ask her. She nods her head. "No! Kyle...he can't be...how can depression make you insane?" I ask the figment. "Insanity is in different diseases...depression is the common porthole for Insanity to breed. Kyle will act...well like you, maybe a couple of years...depends how much Kyle resists...or don't resist being more exact." Deirdre explains.

"You know a lot for a figment..." I point out. She lets out a soft laugh. "Yeah, well I've been around for awhile and I pick up on a few things." she says in a airy manner. I wonder; can a living person become a figment? Maybe she was someone that couldn't go to heaven or hell but didn't want to be a ghost so ended up working for things like Qualik. Maybe she really was a porn star?

Deirdre gets up and brushes herself off. "Well, I'm off...I need to do some paperwork and find this kid who thinks he's a hard core cutter...maybe make him feel what it's really like to die..." she says with a wicked grin. "Wait, who do you guys work for?" I ask her. "Duh, the Grim Reaper..." she chirps, "Oh, she's not too bad...she can be a little twisted but she throws great parties!"

"She?"

"Yeah, Death's a girl...her twin sister is Dreams but Delirium is a guy and so is Destiny..."

"Are you making this up?"

"That's for you to decide..."

And a puff of blue smoke...she's gone...

Later that night, I could feel my blood run cold and my heart race faster. I've been up on coffee and its approaching three o'clock. I felt something plop on my stomach. I look to see the purple fur ball is grinning wildly. "Hiya, bub!" he says with a chilling smile. "Leave me alone, Clyde. I don't want to do anything and you can't make me..." I growl at the animal. "Oh yeah?" he challenge me.

He leaps into toward me and goes through my chest. Pain surges through me and I can hardly breathe. It feels like my brain is surging with electrical currents. I fall off my bed and I land on my left side. The pain is so excruciating...it's unbearable. I start screaming but no one comes to my aid.

_'Now, this is much better.'_

'What are you going to do?'

_'I'm going to pay your little friend, Kyle, a visit...'_

'Wait! Why Kyle? I thought Qualik needs him!'

_'He's better use dead than alive'_

**Clyde's POV...technically**

_Possession is something only top figments have no even achieved. That's what happens when you brown nose to the big cheese, Qualik. This sap has no idea the power...it's beyond his comprehension. I start walking toward the door but I almost tripped over some shit on the floor. God, does this kid know how to clean up? _

_I open the door and looked out into the hallway; no one is up to stop me...perfect. He tries to resist but I have too much control. Heh, if the kid was morally or mentally strong then it would be very difficult to control...lucky me he's morally anorexic and mentally unstable. _

_I go into the kitchen to find a butcher knife ready to take. I look at my reflection. My eyes are a golden yellow instead of that accursed blue. The color is akin to my own...they're demonic and terrible but that's a good thing. I walk to the window and hop down and land in half melted snow. I almost landed in one of the trashcans...that might've woken up someone. I think I saw some rats scurry toward the trash...lovely. _

_I keep walking through the snow toward that boy Kyle's house and more and more the boy is trying to resist my control. I'm trying to silence his insolence with waves of pain but it's not working. He's not letting down and it's really annoying._

_'You know you can stop doing that...'_

'Oh, okay...I'll stop and let you kill the only person that I care about!'

_'See, is that so hard?'_

'I'm being sarcastic you cunt!'

_'I'm not a cunt you fucking douche bag!'_

_I sent another wave of pain and that silences him a bit. I can see the house, good I'm not too far. I look and there are no lights but tapping in the kid's memory I know the front window is the entrance of his house. I climb up onto the ledge and I pry open the window, quite easily. I look in to see he's sound asleep. I step into the room but the floors creak...mockingly. He stirs but doesn't wake up...good. _

_I walk over as quietly as possible and hover over him. I saw a reflection of him in the knife...I couldn't help but smile. He opens his eyes and by instinct hide the knife. "Kenny, what are you doing here?" he asks me half awake. I think of an answer quickly. "I...wanted to see you again, I didn't really say a proper goodbye..." I said with a smile. "What's up with your voice...it sound a tad gravelly..." he comments. _

"KYLE! RUN AWAY!"

_"Kenny?" his eyes widen. I cover my mouth and look around. No, he's regaining control. _"RUN AWAY KYLE...BEFORE-" _I got control back and I look at him. His composer is rigid and he stinks of fear. He runs for the door but I knock him down. "YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" I scream. _

_He tries to get up but I slice his ankle with the knife. "Aaaagh!" he screams as he buckles to the floor. He tries to crawl to the door but I slice his hand open when reaching for the knob. I locked his door and I pull him by his hair and I drag him near the closet. _

_"Why are you acting like this, Kenny?" he asks me. I let out a cackle but Kenny keeps on fighting me. "It's what you get for going out with a psychopath..." I reply. I pick up the knife and hold his face. "It such a shame...you are a very pretty boy..." I say while gliding the knife along his cheek. Blood trickles down and he tries to squirm but my grip is stronger. 'Your blood will be just as pretty against my blade..." I hold the knife against his neck and-_

'NOOOOOOOO!'

_'What the hell?' _

'I won't let you...kill him you bastard!'

**Kenny's POV **

I regained control, holy fucking Christ I did it! I look around to see if I can find a reflection. My eyes are the same, everything is normal again. I drop the knife and fall to my knees...openly crying. "Oh god, Oh goood...I'm sooo terr-ible!" I sob, "K-Kyle...I almost k-killed Kyle!" I look at him and he just stares gaping. "Kenny..." he begins, "Is this really you?" I nod in response but I can't stop crying.

"I n-need to control it...wh-what happens the n-next time? Y-you might not be heeere!" I sob. Kyle crawls toward me and embraces me in a hug. I try into his chest until nothing came out. I felt him pet my matted hair and his lips against my head. I look up at him. "I need help..." I tell him, "I need to leave South Park and find help...it's the only way I..._we_ can be okay." Kyle's eyes swell up with tears.

"No! Kenny, don't leave me! I...need you!" tears roll down his face as it is his turn to cry. I hold onto him tighter embrace. I wipe away the blood from his cheek and look at him. He leans in and grazes his lips against mine. I kissed back but I broke it a minute later. I got up from the floor and walked toward the window. I look at him and give him a smile. "Wait up for me..." I say to him in a half cheery tone. He gives me a smile and nods in response.

_Wait up for me...

* * *

_

End of Chapter XVI

HDM: the last chapter is the next one! **:squeals: **Oh god, I can think of soo much fanart that I could do for this story but I'm tooo lazy. The last scene alone would be soooo cute! Thank you again...I love you all!


	17. Bittersweet Ending

Chapter XVII

Bittersweet Ending

HDM: Okay, I will make a shout out to all my lovely reviewers after the chapter. Thank you SO much for all your support and keeping me motivated to write. Please PLEASE review and tell me your thoughts about the ending or the whole story line in general...and critique it...don't try to make me feel good with only good things...and note that this WILL drag until the end because I won't deliberately tell you what happens until the end.

This is told in 3rd POV limited (ho ho I'm smart)

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"A compromise is the art of dividing a cake in such a way that everyone believes he has the biggest piece" **Ludwig Erhard

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**

South Park, no one really thought of it much of a town. Deep in the state of Colorado, many of us probably would never have heard of it. For such a small and insignificant town, so many things have happened. From hot celebrities to the Satan vs. Jesus fight, South Park has been through it all. Sin thrives in this small town and virtue is never abundant. Never, though, has South Park has experienced this...

More and more, children and teenagers are succumbed to several, if not all, severe mental diseases. Most common diseases are clinical depression and schizophrenia. They had even some of the rarest disease, like multiple personality disorder, sprout up time and time again. Adults don't know how to control their children and South Park doesn't want to dirty its hands with the diseased children and teens. So, they built an asylum just for these kids. It was called Broken Heads Insanity House and if you went there you _never _left. It was like jail without bail; you stayed there because 'you were a danger to society'. They practiced illegal methods that were centuries old and mistreated the patients.

Some of the lucky few did not go to the BHIH. Some, like Kyle Brofloski, had loving parents who wanted to help their children. They had their medications shipped from different cities and had other methods to control their diseases.

Kyle knew the dangerous practices performed at the BHIH. So, when he got a little older Kyle soon became the spokesperson for all those mistreated in hospitals all over the country. He hosted rallies and conventions, trying to get the population to know what's going on. He's trying to enlighten the ignorant to show that they are not disgusting animals but people who need and want help.

Some teens wised up and left South Park and go to someplace that _will _try to help. Most went to Denver but some made the distance to go to California and find someone to help. They had no money, where would they go? Some just became hobos and ate out of trash cans. Some did find help but it did little or nothing at all. Some acted like little Kyle Brofloski missionaries and spread the word, trying to get more people on board. They had little success.

Kenny McCormick was one of the many who left without even finishing high school in South Park. He took what little he had and all the money he could scrounge up and left for California. Unlike the others, he had a motivation to find help...because his was the worst of all. He finally found a clinic on the outskirts of Los Angeles that brought him in. The best thing that it was free...it was the few clinics that actually helped without taking anything out of your pocket.

He boarded in and they treated him like a human being. He started to tell his story and people listened. Everyone started talking about the boy who's conquering Insanity. He was home schooled and got his high school degree with surprisingly good grades. He started to talk more about his story. He wrote a book, explaining his story. He called it Living Among the Dead; his character, Christopher O'Brian, deals with what Kenny went through. It got published and more and more people started sending mail to Kenny, telling him their story.

Some were quite motivational:

* * *

Dear Kenny, I just read your book and I'm so happy someone who actually has a problem is voicing his side of the story. My daughter suffers from Post Traumatic Anxiety and everyone tells me that "She's just going through a phase." and "All kids today see someone shot, just because her brother was shot in front of her doesn't make 'traumatize' her." or my favorite "She's just too emotional." Don't let anyone denounce you or tell you that you're wrong.

Sincerely, Sharon Mackey

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Some were not so pleasant:

* * *

Dear Kenny, I read Living Among the Dead the other day and I'm quite disturbed at your concept of Insanity. It seems you've took tasted this tonic with not fully drank it. You take some of the most clichéd plots and unthinkable consequences. Maybe you should do some research on what real cruelty is and how you're just a baby without his bottle.

Sincerely, Anonymous

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Some were just creepy:

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Kenny, You seem like a really hottt dizeesed guy! I just want you to fuck my braiynz out and suck on my pearsed tits aaaall night long! Sure, I just did some speed before righting this and my speling izn't too goood but I mak it up with greaat sXe! Give me a kall kutie!

Your Sexxy Angel, Anna Leigh

* * *

Some were crackpots that just took a shot of cocaine writing their garbage but the majority was either people who had a disease or friend and family who told him about a loved one with a disease. He got their permission and made another book The Minds of the Deranged. Kenny became very popular and everyone in the United States, England and parts of Europe had either copy of his books. He had his own website, everyone wanted to talk to him. He was the icon of the deranged.

The reason he was so popular was because he wasn't a doctor or someone studying the field. He has a disease and he knows what's going on. He's very charismatic and he can make you feel a hundred times better. He was very popular with the ladies; they fall for the blond hair, blue eyes, and insane guy. To say he was easy on the eyes was an understatement in itself. He looked like someone who should be in acting, not someone who had a mental disorder.

Years have past and all over people have heard about the popularity of Kenny McCormick and the controversial rallies of Kyle Brofloski. Even though the two are very popular and took strides for the same cause, they never saw each other. Kenny didn't want to see Kyle until he kept his promise...to get well. Although he has fewer encounters with figments and Qualik, he is still sick. He can hear laughing in his sleep...until he stopped sleeping at all. He keeps his mind busy with other things...you know the whole idle hands proverb thing.

It has been years since Kenny set foot in South Park. He ponders if some of the kids are still there...did they get out or were they trapped. He wonders if Stan ever became some amazing person who's married to Wendy and is living the perfect life. He muses if Cartman got lipo-suction or is still morbidly obese. He thinks most about Kyle, if he's alright or if he still remembered the promise. Did he actually wait for me or found someone else? Thinking about him with another could make Kenny's stomach churn.

'Did he even remember? I know that he probably has a lot to do. I heard that he's really gathering the masses. I guess they see him as this handsome kid who wants to help. God, I saw him once or twice on the news. He still looks perfect...his hair and eyes and everything are still the same. I want to see him so bad...I want to embrace him and kiss him passionately. I just...can't do it right now. I have to keep my promise...'

_A promise..._

Fifteen years later

Kenny looks at the sign 'You are now entering South Park'. He slowly drives down the small street in his sedan. He looks around to see nothing has really changed. The only main difference is the giant stone building on the outskirts of town. Kenny shook his head, trying to get rid of memories. He makes a left and continues down the road for a little while.

He is at the prime age of thirty. He aged well; he has not a wrinkle or sign of aging. His blonde hair looks healthier since his teen years after he discovered something called a 'haircut'. His cerulean blue eyes shine in the sun. He wears a nice business shirt and tie...well he always wore that nowadays. He has a piece of paper with directions on the dashboard.

He sees where his old house to the right. He parks his car and gets out slowly. He walks up to the house and looks at it. There are old planks boarding one of the windows while the other is half shattered. The screen is almost off the hinges; it sways in the wind making an old and creaky noise. There is crap all over the dead lawn like a tire and beer bottles. Kenny knocks on the dilapidated door. He waits a couple seconds before he sees the knob turning slowly.

He sees a man that looks like he's in his late twenties. The man has greasy and uncombed blonde hair and has a five o'clock shadow. His gut sticks out of his stained white T-shirt. His blue eyes are dulled by too much liquor. "What do you want?" the man growled. Kenny cleared his throat and pushed back a wisp of hair. "I'm looking for Kevin McCormick..." he began.

"Kenny?"

"Hey Kevin..."

"You left and never came back...why are you hear?"

Kenny looks away, possibly evading the question. "I'm here for a friend..." he mutters. Kevin shuffles a bit, looking a bit annoyed and confused. "So, you couldn't see your dear little brother or were you too busy famous?" Kevin spat. Kenny looks at him and gave the man an unfriendly glare. Kevin, his only sibling, but he means so little to him. Never sent out someone to find him or even tried to communicate after his popularity increased.

"I didn't forget about you Kevin; you didn't want anything to do with me, remember?"

"Maybe because I didn't want to be associated with a drugged up loser who's all popular because he's sick in the head!"

"I haven't touched any drugs since I was a kid..."

"Yeah, well I'm not surprised if that's the reason why you're a head case! I remember, Kenny, you would hide drugs under my bed! You would grind weed in Mom's flour sifter! You hid your cocaine in sugar containers! Heroine was in the medication cabinet! You had more liquor than a Wine and Spirits store! Now, you're 'all cleaned up and have a disease' campaign!"

"I didn't hide that from anyone, Kevin, and you know it! My book, if you can even read, says how I was a drug addict and I did go through rehab! They did do tests and my 'problem' wasn't affected by the drugs! They said it's been there since I was young and the only thing the drugs did was prevent it from activating! Don't make me look like the hypocrite here, I've sent money back and took care of you and Mom because you won't get off welfare! You don't want to see your brother get out of this hellhole, something you're too lazy to do!"

The two stop talking by a sound of someone shrieking terribly. Kevin goes inside the house and Kenny reluctantly followed. Horrible smells of liquor and human waste comes out of the house. The old furniture smells like cat piss and the carpets are stained. The lighting is dim and the only thing on is a television with Jerry Springer on. Kenny looks to see someone on the beaten up couch along with Kevin. Kenny's eyes soften and tears swell. "Mom?" he croaks.

His mother was a pitiful sight. Her hair was unkempt and she only has a night gown poorly covering herself. She has grays mixed in with her faded auburn hair and patches of bald spots. Her eyes are half closed; her face has age spots and wrinkles. She is plump and looks like she's never left her seat on the couch. There's a respirator next to her with a mask. "Who is this handsome boy, Kevin?" she whimpers. Kevin looks up at Kenny. "She's not feeling well...you should leave."

Kenny comes closer to his mother. "Mom, it's me, Kenny. I know I left you but I wanted to get better. You sent letters to me, remember? You said that you're not doing well financially so I sent money. Remember, Mom, it's me..." Kenny tells her. His mother just looks at him and gives him a silly grin. "You remind me of my older boy, Kenny. Not the most straight forward kid...did some bad stuff but he meant well." she goes off.

"Mom! It's me!"

"Long ago, I think something happened to him. It happened after my husband died. Kevin told me that Kenny killed him and then ran away but I know better...he would never leave because of that. My Kenny suffered and I couldn't be a good mother for him."

"MOM! You were a good mother! Please, it's me, your son!"

Kevin gets up and pushes Kenny out the door. "Get out and stop harassing _my_ mother!" he snaps. He shoves Kenny out the door and slams the door. Kenny could hear more screaming from the window and things getting knocked over. He wipes his eyes and walkes back to his car.

Later...

Kenny parks the car and walks through a park. He can distinctly see the BHIH from here. He curses under his breath and keeps walking. He sees a group of people walking ahead of him. They look back at him and some did a double take. He could hear them whispering amongst themselves.

"That's Kenny McCormick, he's on the news."

"He used to live here...didn't he get crushed by an elevator?"

"No, he died by having a potato being replaced with his heart."

There were many other comments but he stop listening in. He let out a chuckle, that's what most people care about...not about your achievements but your failures.

He enters the cemetery that's connected to the park. He looks at all the tombstones with a sense of curiosity. Most are eroded by the weather and some you can't even see the names. What is it like, to be remembered by just a piece of granite? Do you think that they're upset that their only sign that they were once alive can't even show his or her name?

Some people walk up to him and give him a look. "Kenny?" the one asks. "Yeah?" Kenny responds. "Dude, it's Craig! How are you?" the man replies with a hug. Kenny, both surprised and confused, returned the hug and look at him. He looks the same with some obvious changes. "Yeah, here for the viewing?" he asks stupidly. Kenny quirked an eyebrow but he gives a nod to the childhood companion. "I hear ya, he was a good guy. We argued a lot but he was a good guy."

_Craig and Stan used to fight over Wendy. Kyle and Craig never really got along. I had a crush on Craig. Petty little things..._

Kenny meets up with other childhood companions. Token is a lawyer, Tweek made a new energy drink that's a hot seller, and Butters became an underwear model. Some, though, didn't have a good life. Bebe dropped out of high school because she got a kid, and Craig has been on and off the wagon for years making him keep a job almost impossible.

He runs into Wendy among a group of women. She gives Kenny a hug and starts telling him about her relationship with Stan. "Stan and I broke up senior year after I cheated on him with some college guy. I always regretted that...but this is so terrible" Kenny looks at her.

"Why are you talking about this now?" he asks her. "I don't know...I guess it's just I always knew he didn't want anything to do with me but I pushed it...why did he die, Kenny?"

_Stan cheated on Wendy with a girl named Sheena. Wendy had a crush on Kyle. Kyle loved me. _

Suddenly, he felt so alone. Everyone already said their regards but Kenny could not go near the grave. It was like something was pulling him from the grave. He looked out into the horizon, maybe trying to figure out why he's even here. Why did he come back, this place only gets him hurt. It's like picking an old and bloody scab.

_Days of laughing...never a dull moment. Where is the sun?_

_'I remember...I told Kyle not to wait up for me anymore. I told him to move on and find someone who's not a screw up. I told him to go hook up with Stan and be a big, happy, gay family. I think I was drunk...or just really pissed. Never at him, but at myself. I didn't want to take a promise that I don't believe I could keep. I told Stan to take care of him but he told me that Kyle only wants me. **Me...**' _

"Kenny?"

He snaps out of it to see a woman staring at her. She had long wavy hair the colour of a mahogany red. Her eyes were a shining apple green. She wore a dress suit that fitted her perfectly. Fifteen long years and he's never seen her till today. Sure, letters and emails were okay but not the same. He looks at her and gives her a smile. "Hello, Reigh..." She walks over, she doesn't crack a smile. "Why are you here?" he asked her. "Well I was his friend...am I allowed to give my regards for my friend?"

_Kyle and Reighlie went to the same synagogue. Stan and Reighlie met at the bar. I almost took her virginity._

"You look good..." he tells her under his breath. She smiles a bit but doesn't say a word. "I've read your books...you're an amazing writer." she compliments. Kenny cracks a smile. "No, I just got time on my hands. So, did you find yourself in L.A?" he asks. "I'm a photographer...not the big bucks but it pays the rent." she replies.

It seems like time stood still. The two are silent. They were more than friends but never officially lovers. They went out with other people with no strings attached. They were together when one of the two had a bad day. They shared their life stories at the bar or over a cigarette break. She told him to go out with Kyle and be happy. He didn't want her to leave. She left thinking at least he had Kyle. They both ended up alone.

"Want to have coffee sometime? You know, to catch up on lost time...perhaps?" Reighlie offers. Kenny wipes his face with his sleeve and sighs. "What like old times? Sorry but I'm not screwing up another life..." Kenny snaps. Reigh doesn't react at all; Kenny looks away. "You didn't screw up Kyle's life...you can only screw up your own..." she replies."I don't need your wisdom...I need to get better..." he coldly replied.

Kenny looks at the grave and shuddered. It's so fresh, so clean, so new compared to the rest. There lays his friend, someone he cared for so deeply. Why did he come? He didn't keep his promise...he would only come back if he got better...he's nowhere close. Why does anyone want to revisit love ones when they've departed. There's someone standing there, someone who's been avoiding Kenny all day it seems. Kenny tries to say something but the person quickly runs off.

"It's sad...one thing leads to another...until you realize that someone's gone." Reigh comments. He bites down on his lower lip, trying not to cry. She puts her hand on his shoulder and he shrugs it off. "Please, Kenny, you can't act like this...it's not healthy." she tells him. "What are you, a therapist?" he snarls. "Non-practicing..." she replies coldly.

"You don't know how I'm feeling! You did this when we were teenagers and you're doing it now! I don't need help; I just need to be left alone!"

"I never pushed you Kenny, you pushed everyone away! You never would accept help and if I asked you what's wrong you would kiss me...like you're avoiding your problems with sex!"

"I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GET HURT!"

He takes a step back and looked around for an escape. He collapses on the ground and pounds the earth. She tries to raise him up but he forces himself to stay. "Kenny, I know about your illness but you don't need to shut people out to protect them! It's not healthy and you need to accept that they're people who WILL help you if you give them a chance!"

He stares at her but doesn't get up. He wants to but it's too difficult. "Do you want to go get coffee?" he asks her under her breath. She smiles and helps him up. He gets up and he follows Reighlie toward the others. "Wait...I need to give my respects..." he says to her. He walks to the grave and bows his head.

"Hey, how are you? It's good to see you...and yet I wish it didn't come down to this. I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in so long. I didn't forget to email you though, if that matters. I'm sorry for everything...for screwing up and you trying to help. You always wanted to help me...you always helped everyone. Everyone thought you were so happy when we were kids and now look...God...how did this happen? I wanted to tell you that I'm going to be okay...I'm going to fight this thing and I'm going to be okay. I...just wanted you to know that..."

**Here Lies Kyle Brofloski**

**1989-2020**

**Wonderful Son, Good Friend**

**"An Angel Among the Demons"**

END OF INSANITY BLEEDS

* * *

HDM: Shout outs! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and here are the reviewers that stuck with this or just left really affecting reviews:

Faery Goddyss: Thank you for your advice and reviews, I'm glad that you read this (I'm sorry that I killed him...please forgive me :pouts:)

Fishbone: Sucked you into this even when you don't watch sp...love ya arielle (omg I gave your name haha)

Leela's Tears: loved your reviews, hope you were satisfied

total misanthrope: Glad you liked my story and I hope you like BB

Again, tell me what you think, check out my homepage for a link to my deviant thingy, I'll have south park pictures up tonight


	18. Epilogue: Uplift the Veil from Your Eyes

The Epilogue: Uplift the Veil from Your Eyes

HDM: dun dun DUNNNNNN!

* * *

Dream Sequence

I keep on returning to this world; why do I even bother going to sleep? I know this place like the back of my hand. Qualik wants a word with me, the swirling red clouds indicate that he's not happy. I open an iron-barred door with some struggle. Its heaviness is so real.

It opens slowly with a dull creaking noise with every inch it moves. I walk into the room, there's no windows to let what little light to pass in. The walls are stone along with the floor, making it very cold, dank, and dim. There's a long table with two chairs arranged. I sat in the one and waited for my 'host'.

Qualik emerges as a shadowy fog. He appearance has changed quite a bit from my teenage years. His mohawk is now flaming with different colors, ranging from a blue-green to a violet color. His mouth bears longer and more vicious teeth. The white in his eyes are now a deep crimson. Instead of him 'bleeding' he's more of a smoky shadow with red and black colored smoke. Instead of a heart on his chest it's just a smile with one of its eyes gauged out. He looks more cruel and sadistic. His fingers remind me of thin blades and his skin color looks like it's swirling a metallic silver and a granite gray. His smile...it still haunts me when I'm awake. He's worse than childhood monsters...because he's real.

"Kenny, I'm not happy with your performance..." he snarls but still in a cool articulate tone

"How are you unhappy when you have that cute, perky grin?" I ask in a defiant tone.

"DON'T be a smartass, you know WHY I'm unhappy!" he snaps.

"No, I'm pretty clueless. I've been avoiding sleep so you wouldn't have to talk to me." I say, dripping in sarcasm.

Qualik's shadows turn into a brighter red. His eyes narrow and his grin turns into a sneer. "Where is he?" he asks me. "Where's who?" I crassly reply. He slams his fists against the table; cracks form and squirm towards my end of the table. Funny, they look almost real.

Then the cracks basically slither off the table and creep across the floor. I watch them with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Like boa constrictors, the shadows slipped around my torso and arms and tightly bound me to the chair. I feel my heart and lungs being pushed against my skin uncomfortably. They squeeze tighter and I feel nauseous.

Qualik glides towards me slowly, like he's making me suffer on purpose. "Kenny, Kenny, Kenny..." he says while shaking his head, "Know this...you cannot escape me, I will get what I want one way or another. You decide to be difficult." He strokes my right cheek with his index finger. I can feel a sharp coldness and boiling hot sensation all at the same time.

"Now, are you going to co-operate?" he hisses in my ear. I did not answer. I see him snap his fingers and the shadow monsters strengthen their grips even more. I can feel my ribs cracking and I scream in pain. I spit up blood and it lands skillfully on Qualik's face. The blood just evaporates off of his chalk white skin. "I'll take that as a yes." he assumes as he lessens the grip. I gulp the air like a fish.

"Now...where's Kyle Brofloski?"

Did I hear him correctly? Is he asking where is he buried because that's the only thing that I could actually tell him. Why does he want to know the location of my dead friend...or lover...whatever the hell we were. "You want to know where he's buried?" I say to him. His eyes swirl the color of crimson and tuscan red...like it's a pool of blood. "Don't PLAY dumb! Where is he!" he shouts.

"I don't know what you're talking about! Kyle is DEAD!"

"No he's NOT!"

"I went to his funeral!"

"It wasn't his!"

He then quickly goes from being pissed to this eerie calm. He's lying...he's got to be lying. I can feel hot tears drip slowly against my cheek. Qualik sticks out his tongue and his stretches long enough so it can touch my cheek. It quickly retracts like measuring tape and gives me a grin. "Tears are just delectable...don't you think?" he chuckles. He's enjoying this...the twisted fuck actually enjoys this!

"Poor, pathetic, sniveling Kenny...he's gettin a widdle upset..." he taunts.

"Shut up..." I grit my teeth.

"All alone in this cold, dark world without his lover."

"I mean it..."

"He promised to come back but never did...now he's alone and still insane!"

"_STOP IT!_"

With all of my strength I try to rip away from the snake-like shadows. They release and I lunge for Qualik's throat. I press him to the ground and shake him repetitively. He just laughs. "LOOK YOU! You have FUCKED with me and my HEAD for FIFTEEN FUCKIN' YEARS and NOW you're saying that one of the FEW people I gave A DAMN is actually ALIVE?" I yell at the monster. He fades away, leaving me staring at the floor. I pound the floor so many times I think my hands started to bleed. I hear him above me...laughing.

I hate his laugh...

I feel his hand hit me in the back of my head. He put so much force that I slammed my cheek against the cold tiled floor. I graze my fingers against my cheek to see blood. He pushes me on my back and applies pressure. He's so strong...I cannot squirm away. "Get one thing straight, Kenny. I am immortal. You cannot beat me; I will NEVER leave. You can avoid me all you like and so can your little lover but I CAN and WILL find ALL of you! You think this is bad; you're in for a rude awakening!" he screams. He presses harder; I think I heard a bone crack! I look and see it's just the tile breaking from the pressure.

Kyle is alive...

KYLE is ALIVE!

_He KNEW Kyle is ALIVE!_

_HE DID NOT TELL ME KYLE IS ALIVE!_

I feel the anger and rage building every time I think about it. He didn't tell me ON PURPOSE! "You KNEW!" I scream. I push him off of me with such force. He is taken aback. "Remember...this is still MY imagination that you've infected. I still have control...for example..." the ground suddenly turns liquid underneath Qualik and sucks him in. The only thing I can see is his head. The tiles wrap around my right arm to form an axe. I aim right down the middle. Qualik looks at the axe with fear and dismay. "Oh shit..." he lets out before...

SHINKT!

* * *

I am woken up with a jolt. I look to see Reighlie in this leather chair. She has a notepad and pen in her hands and she looks at me with concern. I look around the room. There's bookshelves and framed PhDs all around the room. I look and see that there's suctions and wires all over my body.

"Welcome back, Kenny. The readings weren't looking too good so we shocked you back...hope it wasn't too much..." Reighlie says in a brisk tone. I rub my head and shake my head. "No...I'm fine...Reigh, I think I did it..." I tell her. Another doctor comes in and takes the readings from a computer I was hooked up to. "Did what, Kenny?" she asks.

I came to realize awhile back that she could maybe help me in a way other therapists couldn't do...she was on a more personal level. After I told her about Qualik, it was her idea to register my dreams...or nightmares. I had to be induced with sleeping pills before going through all of that...but is it truly over? "Reigh...did you know Kyle is still alive?" I ask her. She looks up from her notepad and stares. She does know...she has that 'how do you know' look. "Kenny...I want you to not get upset..." she begins.

"Kenny, about five years ago...the town committee believed that Kyle was too...outspoken about the BHIH. So, they incriminating evidence like the cutting and the attempted suicides against Kyle and threw him into the insanity ward. He met up with Stan, who was also charged for Borderline and other things. Now, if the state believes you're unfit for society you were sent there with no just reason.They scheduled Kyle to get a lobotomy. He was either going to die on the table or lose half his brain or just be some smuck in the ward. He wouldn't give anyone a fight.

Stan was scheduled to be released for good behavior but it was really because they did not have enough evidence to keep him in the BHIH. Stan also got full blown AIDS from an unsterile needle. Stan knew that he wasn't going to live long and Kyle was going to die or lose his brain. So, with help from me and a few doctors I knew, we devised a plan.

Stan replaced Kyle on that operation table. Kyle cut and dyed his hair so he would look more like Stan. The operation was a success and Stan lost his brain. We tried to get him out of the ward but the State wouldn't allow it..."

I look at her in disbelief. "So...Stan is dead...and Kyle's alive somewhere?" I say. She nods her head. I would be angrier but the machine sapped a lot of my energy. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask her. "Only Kyle, his parents, and myself know about this. I was going to tell you when you overcame this...monster in your head. If you knew, then Qualik would have used it against you and found Kyle faster."

"How? How can Qualik find him and why could he not find Kyle?"

"We gave him medication so he cannot dream...that's the only method Qualik can get to victims is the subconscious..."

"But how would I help him?"

"I don't know how but someway he could use your memories to get to other people. Apparently that's how he found Kyle and Stan in the first place."

"So...I'm the reason Stan is dead and Kyle is running..."

* * *

Later that night

I look through the phone book and saw three entries of Marsh, S. I failed to find Kyle the first two numbers so I have one more chance. I dial the number and listen to the ringing. I hear the click and I could have sworn my heart stopped beating.

"Hello?"

"Is this Stan Marsh?"

"Yes?"

"Was your name...Kyle Brofloski some time ago?"

"Who is this? How do you-"

"Kyle? It's Kenny..."

He stopped talking. I think I heard the sound of the phone dropping. I decide to keep talking...even if he does not want to listen. "Kyle...I know that you don't want to hear me or see me...figuring we haven't spoken in fifteen years but I'm going to talk anyways. You were at the grave too...you heard me say all of those things. I beat him, Kyle. Qualik is gone...I killed him with an axe! I...I didn't want to hurt you and I know I did and I'm sorry. I didn't want you to get hurt...but I couldn't stop that...I cannot make anyone happy..."

"Shut up..." I hear him.

"What?"

"Quit this teenage angst...I know you're sorry and I know you're reasons. I'm the one who cut you out of my life five years ago...to keep my own identity secret. We both drove eachother away because..." he cut himself off and changed the subject. "I want to see you...come to two thirty-three Harbison Street and go to seventeen B on the second floor."

After we say our goodbyes, I head out the door almost immediately. Before I look in the mirror and saw I still had a five o'clock shadow and looked a bit unkempt. I decide to wash up a bit and put on some clean clothes before seeing him. I got into my car and drove down to Harbison Street.

I saw the apartment building and turn into the parking lot. I walked to the monitor near the door. I pressed the button labeled 17B. "Hello?" I heard the intercom. "It's me..." I reply. "I'll buzz you in..." he says as the door opens. I walk up to the second floor to see the number seventeen at the end of the hall. I knock twice on the wooden door and saw the doorknob turn slowly.

Kyle opens the door far enough so I can see him. He has short layered black bangs that almost color his natural green eyes. He's wearing a brown sweater with blue jeans. He's more toned than before but is paler. He does look a lot like Stan, except for the eyes. He opens the door and almost pulls me in. He starts touching my hair and cheek and hands. "You cut your hair..." he says. His voice is low but smooth.

"You dyed yours black..."

"You have clean clothes..."

"You're paler..."

He comes very close to me; I can smell his Axe from this distance. He pushes me against the door and holds me there. We're mere inches away from each other. "You left me...you said you'll come back..." he says. "I came back didn't I?" I reply crisply. Our voices don't reach above a whisper now. "Stay this time?" I can barely hear him state. "I _promise..."_ I reply with a soft smile. He smiles as well.

Then I received a long forgotten kiss...

* * *

End of Epilogue

HDM: hope that clears everything up for you guys...this is really not my style but I figure I tortured you enough so here's a nicer ending than the 'real' one...


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